The Red House
by zarafina
Summary: After Death Eater attack Harry almost dies. He wakes up in an unknown house and soon realizes he cannot leave the place without the other resident. Too bad for Harry the other occupant turns out to be Voldemort...LV/HP SLASH Full summary inside.
1. The Death Eater Attack

**The Red House**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except the plot of this fanfic.

**Pairing:** HP/LV

**Summary:** After Death Eater attack Harry almost dies. He wakes up in an unknown house and soon realizes he cannot leave the place without the other resident. Too bad for Harry the other occupant turns out to be Voldemort. Together with the insane Dark Lord, they have to enter different dimensions, successfully perform absurd tasks in order to return to their own world. How can they succeed when their only thought is to kill the other?

**Warnings**: Slash, AU, OOC, Violence, Language, random updates, Dark!Harry, Elemental!Harry

**A/N: **This is my first fanfic so please be gentle with me, no flames allowed! Constructive criticism always welcomed. And even if I don't get a single review, I will continue this story anyway. So read and enjoy! (And review)

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**1. The Death Eater Attack**

"BOY! Come here right now!"

Harry put down his charm's homework and sighed. He hurried to the downstairs. When it came to Vernon, Harry had a policy; always the faster the better. You didn't want to lose any minute when Uncle Vernon was calling you. Harry had learned that the hard way.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" Harry held his head down staring at the floor.

"My lovely wife Petunia wants you to go to the grocery store." The obese man gave Harry a piece of paper. The teen quickly read through the ingredients; eggs, tea, milk, coffee, chocolate bars.

Harry lifted his eyes just in time to see the walrus open his mouth. " The chocolate bars are for Duddikins. Bring three of them. You hear me freak!" Vernon yelled spit felling on Harry's face.

The green-eyed-teen nodded once and surreptitiously wiped the spit with the palm of his hand off of his face.

"Here is 5 pounds." Vernon handed the money to Harry. "And don't forget to bring back the changes!"

Harry looked at his uncle incredulously. "You can't be serious! This isn't enough even for that fat whale's chocolates! And you think I-" He didn't even see the fist coming.

Harry fell down hitting his head on the floor. In a second Vernon was hovering over him and grasped Harry by his collar. It never ceased to amaze him how fast Vernon could be for someone so obviously over weighted person.

"You listen to me now freak! You will never, NEVER speak back to me like that again! Am I understood you filthy abnormity?"

His uncle's face was nearing the purple color. This is bad, Harry thought, better answer soon or I will never get up from this floor. "Y-yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry stuttered.

Vernon lifted Harry up, opened the front door while his other hand was still grasping on Harry's collar and then threw him outside. Harry landed on his butt in front of the porch and when he was getting up he heard his uncle hissing him silently. "You better not get yourself trouble boy or you will face the real trouble when you come back. " He gave Harry one more angry glare and slammed the door shut.

Harry turned his back on the number 4 Privet Drive and headed towards the grocery store. He could still feel the pain on his jaw. Tomorrow there would be a nice bruise adorning his face. At least he was lucky this time. Usually something got broken when his uncle's face became the lovely shade of purple.

Harry should have known better not to talk back to his uncle. But really, it was ridiculous. How could he buy all the groceries with only 5 pounds? His uncle was mad!

"No...it's not because he's mad, it's because he's a mean bastard!" Harry damned the man. "Cruel obese excuse for a human being...He knows I can't get all the stuff with only 5 pounds which means I need to steal some of the groceries if I don't want to get beaten when I come back. But when I come back and Uncle Vernon sees I got everything, he knows I had to steal at least half of the food, so I get beaten anyway....And then he probably beats me some more because I don't have any changes..." Harry sighed. Oh joy, his life sure was wonderful.

He hated his relatives. They treated him like a house elf, he did all the cooking, cleaning and all the repairing in the house. If Harry ever decided to go muggle he would establish "Harry's Handyman" company. Only Merlin knew how good he had become at housework. Beside the work he had to do in the house , his relatives also starved him. Thanks for the Dursleys, Harry was short for his age. Even Hermione was taller than him. Harry was sure his growth in height had suffered because he had lived in the closet under the stair for the first 10 years of his life. Thank Morgana he had got his own room when he came back from his 2nd year.

The verbal abuse or the starving wasn't so bad. He had gotten used to it. After all it had had happened as long as Harry could remember. It got worse when his relatives found out Harry's notorious godfather had died month ago. In the fear of Sirius Black, the Dursleys had never touched him physically.

After his godfather's death, Harry's life had gone to hell. Uncle Vernon took every chance of assaulting him physically .

Harry sighed and rubbed the back of his head. He was getting a headache. He should write to Dumbledore about his treatment but something was stopping him. Maybe it was because he didn't want to see the pity nor the worry in the old man's eyes. Even if he wanted to write Dumbledore, he couldn't because Hedwig accommodated at Burrow. On his first day of summer holiday, the very same day the Dursley's learned Sirius awful fate, Vernon tried to burn Hedwig alive.

On that day the small wizard had thrown his shoe at Vernon, successfully hitting him on the head, which made the angry muggle drop the owl cage. Harry had snatched the cage while Vernon was swearing under his breath and holding his aching head. Harry had made a quick run to his room where he set Hedging free and told her to go to Burrow. She was better off with Ron where she could fly freely, eat daily and not be the object of a homicidal muggle.

The treatment Harry had to endure was horrible. But there was a very good reason for him to live with the Dursleys: Voldemort. The evil psychopath was after his life and because of his mother's sacrifice, there were blood wards around the house which protected him from Voldemort. But was he really safe at number 4 Privet Drive? Sure, he was safe from the snake-face but there wasn't anything protecting him from his relatives. Why couldn't he stay with the order in their headquarters? Surely no one could harm him there. After all the place was full of fully trained wizards and witches of which some were aurors.

_No...I don't really want to go there because Sirius..._Harry's chest ached and it felt like a big lump was forming in his throat. He closed his eyes. _If you don't think about it, you won't crack. _So obviously, he couldn't take residence at Grimaced Place. And Burrow was out of suggestion. He didn't want any Death Eater attacks on Wesley family. That left him only one option; continue living with his relatives.

It was only one more summer after this and he would be freed from the Dursleys. Maybe he would hex them as a parting gift?

Harry looked at the sky. It was nearing dark. Only little rays of sunlight were in the horizon. He lifted his sweatpants. They were too big and were constantly falling down his narrow hips. Harry snorted. Well, they would be too big for any normal boy around his age. After all his pants were Dudley's hand-me-downs like every muggle clothing Harry had.

He could feel his wand in the pocket of his pants. He always had it with him nowadays. Just in case something bad happened.

"Aw, look who's here all alone? Isn't it ittle bittle Potter?"

Harry stopped dead on his tracks. He knew this voice. Knew it very well. He turned around and saw four figures walking towards him, wands drawn. They were walking in a line with their plain black robes hovering a little in the air and they had white masks on their face.

Death Eaters.

Harry narrowed his eyes and put a hand on his sweatpants' pocket ready to draw his wand.

"Bellatrix, fancy seeing you here bitch," Harry spat, anger rising inside him. Because of her Sirius is...is..._dead! _Harry cried in his mind.

The Death Eater in the middle cackled madly, took off her mask and grinned cruelly at Harry.

"Tsk, tsk baby Potter. You said a bad word. And little naughty boys surely know what happens when they are using language they should not!"

The insane woman threw a yellow curse towards Harry but he was alert and dodged it easily taking simultaneously his wand from his pocket. He had no idea what kind of curse the insane bitch had casted. Knowing Bellatrix, it was probably something very nasty.

"Stop it Bella! We have orders to bring him alive, not in body parts!" The Death Eater on Bella's right hissed in a harsh tone.

Bellatrix pushed the Death Eater aside. "Don't order me around Lucius! If you weren't _family_, I would have tortured you to death long ago." She hissed venomously back.

_Ah, Malfoy...I thought he was in Azkaban,_ Harry frowned. Had Voldemort broken them out of the prison already? Harry had no idea what had happen in the wizarding world. He didn't get the Daily Prophet and his friends, Ron and Hermione, hadn't told anything about the prison break in their letters.

Either way he had to buy time somehow. He needed to escape. _Damn, why couldn't they teach apparition on our 5th year_? The teen thought desperately. It would be so easy way to escape the insane bunch who called themselves Death Eaters. But because he didn't know how to apparate he had to plan something else.

He should keep them talking while he tried to form an escape plan. _Thank Merlin Voldemort isn't here,_ Harry thought gratefully. He didn't want to face the evil I-have-no-nose, not now when he still had the bruises from 2 days ago (Thank you Vernon for beating him with a frying pan) he still didn't know what he had done wrong that day. Harry was also very conscious of his aching jaw. So yeah, he was pretty damn happy that Voldemort had only sent his minions to do the dirty work.

Although Bellatrix and Lucius were kind of hard to ward off...after all they were fully trained dark wizard when he, Harry was only a soon-to-be 16 year-old-boy. And a rather scrawny at that. Of course his small frame was entirely Dursley's fault.

Harry had no idea who the other two Death Eaters were. They still had their masks on.

"I'm surprised you are still alive _Lucius,_" Harry said his name like it was something nasty "maybe old snake face has starting to lose his touch when he thinks you are still useful. After the Ministry incident I was sure he would let you rot in Azkaban."

"You will not speak disrespectfully of our Lord you filthy-" Bella was launching herself towards Harry but Lucius stopped her. Harry used this for his advantage and took a quick look of his surroundings. They were in the middle of a street surrounded by identical houses. It was rather dark already, the street lights were the only source of light. Harry had no idea what the time was but it was odd that there weren't any muggles outside. Maybe they were peeking through their windows like Aunt Petunia used to do. Harry couldn't really tell because he didn't have the time to observe muggle's behavior.

Lucius looked coldly at Harry. "Your taunting has no effect on me Potter." Harry took couple of steps backwards his wand pointing at Lucius. The Death Eaters were closing Harry all pointing their wands at him. Ready to strike.

"Oh, this is new. No witty comeback?"

Lucius ignored Harry's comment. "You can do this either the hard way or the easy way."

Harry took a quick glance on his right. He could run to the house there and hide in the shadows. He could only hope he would be able to dodge all the curses he was sure the Death Eaters would send his way.

"You know me Malfoy, I never take the easy way," Harry sneered. And with that he casted a blasting curse towards the Death Eaters and ran like there was no tomorrow.

"Seize him!" Harry heard someone yell.

He could feel the curses flying past him. Was it just him being a very fast runner or did the Death Eaters had a very bad aim?

Harry was almost in the shadows when he felt a spell hitting him straight on his back. Harry gave a startled gasp and fell down on the freshly cut grass. His back felt like it was on fire. His glasses had flown a few meters away from him, lenses in thousands of tiny pieces. Crap, there goes my glasses again. He should really get his eyesight fixed. Then this wouldn't happen almost every time he was assaulted.

Harry tried to get up as fast as possible ignoring the pain on his back but he didn't get far when another curse hit him.

Unbearable pain. It felt like thousands of knives were cutting and slicing him again and again and again. The cruciatus curse. How Harry hated it. And how Harry hated the bitch whose favorite curse was making him scream in agony.

Suddenly the pain disappeared. Harry felt sick and weak. There was a trail of sweat on his forehead.

"Pretty little Potty thought he could run away from us," Bellatrix taunted while jumping up and down. Probably from joy, Harry thought. She then stopped pouncing and danced beside Harry.

The raven haired wizard was about to get up but was too weak from the cruciatus and he was quickly kicked down on the ground again.

"I think it's better you stay there Potter," Bellatrix was grinning madly. Harry could taste blood in his mouth so he did something what every self-respecting Gryffiondor would do; he spit Bellatrix. The blood and saliva flew straight to the insane witch's face which made her fume in anger.

"Crucio!"

This time Harry refused to scream out loud. But after 10 seconds -which felt like a life time- he gave up and started screaming. Bella ended the curse. Harry was whimpering softly on the ground.

Bella crouched on her knees beside Harry so that her face was almost touching Harry's. "You are so awfully brave little Harry. You could go 10 seconds without screaming." She petted Harry's hair.

The teen was about to lash at Bellatrix but realized he couldn't speak. She noticed this and grinned. "A little wandless silencing spell. I can't have you interrupting me all the time, can I now?" What the hell? When did she cast it?Probably when he was lying on the ground...And since when could Bellatrix cast wandless?

"So, where was I?" The witch frowned. "Oh yes, I was meant to say little Potty that not many can withstand my curse without screaming for so long. Even the Dark Lord would be proud of such a feat you performed. Actually, I have this very good story about an auror who-"

"Cut the chitchat and tie him up. The Dark Lord is waiting," Lucius said standing stoically behind the female Death Eater.

Bellatrix slowly faced Lucius' stare. Her facial expression was one of anger and irritation. Harry painfully moved his head so he could take a glance at Malfoy Senior. His cold silver eyes were shining through the eye holes in his mask in determination and authority. Both Death Eaters remained silent. After several minutes Bellatrix stood up and conjured a robe around Harry.

What the hell was that all about? Harry pondered. An invisible battle of the minds? Harry was sure that neither of them were a legilimens.

Bellatrix crouched down again. Harry tried to struggle the robes off of him but without success. She stared in amazement at Harry. Eyes trailing a thin train of blood flowing on Harry's forehead. Harry stared back at her, green eyes full of hatred and loathing. Bella lifted her hand and caressed his face.

"Look Lucius, doesn't our little Potty look terrible pretty? Just like an ittle bittle girl?" Bella glanced Lucius while grinning widely. Harry seriously didn't get the insane witch. First she exploded at Malfoy and now she was grinning like they were best buddies. Apparently insanity was one of the requirements when applying for a Death Eater. Who else would follow a megalomaniac psychopath than those who weren't quite right in the head?

Malfoy only sneered very unMalfoyish like. "Just take him so we can be done with this. The order will be here any minute now. And we _don't_ need them here meddling into our business."

Bellatrix casted a levitating charm on Harry. While in the air, Harry's eyes widened in realization. _The order!_ Why hadn't he thought of that before? Where was the order? Wasn't there someone always watching him when he was at Privet Drive? Someone must have been shadowing him when he left the wards.... Only if he could stall the Death Eaters somehow....But he was bound. He couldn't do anything!

Where was his wand? He tried to struggle against the robes again but they were too tight. He must have dropped his wand when he fell down.

"Be still now Potty! You don't want to splinch yourself, do you?" Bellatrix scolded him like a mother would scold a child. _No, no, no! _Bellatrix was about to side-apparate with him any second now. Harry struggled some more. "You fucking hag, I'm not going anywhere with you!" Harry yelled breaking the silencing charm.

Brown eyes widened in surprise.

SLAP.

Harry's cheek tingled. Bella had slapped him. "Language Potty. I should wash your mouth with soap when we get to the Dark Lord's castle. Little babies shouldn't use such words," Bella tsked at him.

Harry was about to reply when a sudden explosion made his ears ring. Bellatrix lost her focus on the levitation charm and Harry fell to the ground. He heard someone distantly screaming his name but he didn't take a further notice of it. He had trouble of getting the magical robes off around him.

Harry rolled on the grass trying to find his wand. Not that he had much use for it because he couldn't use his hands. "Stupid robes", Harry started squirming,"No...calm down. You can't free yourself like that". Harry rolled on his back and took a look at his surroundings. He felt relieved. The Order was there; Moony, Tonks, Mad-Eye and Shacklebolt. It was fifty-fifty against the Death Eaters.

He was safe for now. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the robes around him. He imagined how the robes would disappear and he would be free. At the same time he chanted in his mind "_Finite Incantatem"_. He did this for several minutes and when he was about to give up and call for help the robes disappeared. Harry was dumbfounded for a second untill a small smile spread on his face. He had just successfully perfomed non-verbal and wandless magic. Granted, he didn't succeed on his first try but he hadn't even counted that it would work. It was well known how hard it was to cast non-verbal magic. Let alone wandless magic. Very few adult wizard or witch could perform non-verbal spells. Even fewer could do wandless magic.

He stood up and focused on the battle that was 25 meters away from him. One of the Death Eaters Harry didn't recognise, was lying on the ground. He didn't move so Harry thought he was probably unconscius or dead.

Tonks was battling against the other unknown Death Eater. Mad-Eye and Lupin were throwing curses at Bellatrix and Shacklebolt was trying to fend off Malfoy's attacks.

When Harry was about to go look for his wand he catched Lupin glancing at him. He shouldn't have done that. When the werewolf's focus left his enemy, Bellatrix used this for her advance and casted a cutting curse on the distracted wolf. Harry heard him yelp when the spell hit him on his shoulder.

"Moony!" Harry yelled in horror. Remus fell on the ground while Bellatrix was laughing madly. Mad-Eye aimed fiendfyre curse at her. She had to dodge suddenly which caused an abrupt stop for her laughing.

"Your precious wolf will bleed to death Potter!" She taunted while blocking red coloured light casted by Moody.

"I will get you for that bitch!" Harry yelled back at her and started heatingly search for his wand.

An insane laughter was only respond from the witch.

"Potter! You just go and run to safety, we will handle this," Mad-Eye roared, his healthy eye leering at Harry who was searching for his wand while his magical eye was on Bellatrix. _There! _Harry saw his holly wand lying peacefully on the ground two meters away from him. When he was about to swoop for the wand everything became foggy.

The Gryffindor stood frozen too afraid to move a muscle. What had happened? Was it some kind of spell? Harry brought his hand near his face. He frowned when he couldn't see his hand for the fog was too thick. Was it affecting only him or everyone else as well? Harry turned his head towards the battle or at least he thought they were on that direction. He wasn't sure because he couldn't hear anything.

"Tonks! Moody!" He yelled but there was no sound. He took a one step forward. It was eerie how everything was so silent. Then he heard something. Harry cocked his head towards the noise as he was trying to hear better. The voice was muffled as if someone was very far away from him.

Harry hesitantly took a couple of steps forward the voice. Dread was building up inside him. Harry bit his lower lip when he tried to strain his hearing to the extreme.

"Harry!" It was very weak but he was sure the voice called his name. He shivered. The teen had a very bad feeling about this. But he had to find out who was calling him. He could see clearly Remus lying on the ground in his mind. Moony needed help and he would figure out the odd fog. He just lost Sirius a month ago. He couldn't lose Remus too. So, Harry determinedly pushed his fears aside and began walking to the direction of the mysterious voice his wand long forgotten on the ground behind him.

"Harry!" Did it sound like a female? Harry stopped his advance and tried to yell his respond but again, there was no sound.

"Harry!" The voice sounded more urgent and...fearful? Somehow Harry thought of Tonks. Was it the young witch who was calling him?

"I'm here!" This time he managed to form a whisper. The spell must be worning out, Harry figured. If he focused he could surely get some volume into his whispering. "Right, Tonks must have done the same in order to call me...But what if this spell is really only affecting me? Damn Death Eaters," the green-eyed teen talked to himself. Or in this case whispered.

He licked his lips and focused on his voice. He heard Tonks calling him again. Then suddenly a very sharp high-pitched sound traveled through the air shooting pain in Harry's ears. The teen groaned and covered his ears with his hands, trying desperately protect his hearing from the sound. But it didn't stop the pain the sound was causing.

The pain spread from his ears to his head and from his head to his whole body. It was worse than cruciatus. Harry fell on his knees still covering his ears with his hands. Cold sweat broke on his forehead, his eyes were watering and his whole body started to convulse in pain when he hit the ground.

In his mind blowing agony the petite wizard had only one thought in his mind; he was going to die. In a very painful way. And what was the worst part he was going to die because of some gruesome Death Eater.

It felt like the pain lasted forever. His mind became foggy. He thought of Sirius and Remus...Who were they again? Should he know them? Why was he thinking about them? Ah the pain...So horrible, so constant...Faces he couldn't name...scenes he couldn't remember...laughter. They whirled through Harry's mind untill he forgot them. All of the thoughts left him. He knew nothing but the pain. He felt nothing but the pain. The everlasting agony that filled his whole being was eating him inside out.

_This ends now._

A thougth came back to him in his shattered mind. A voice? It said something but what? He couldn't figure what he heard because he suddenly felt a pull. His mind -or what was left of it- was preparing to leave. He didn't know where but anywhere was better than his own body.

He was falling and falling. The pain was diminishing but still there. Then Harry felt a soft caress. It traveled through his body, his mind and lastly his soul. He had never felt anything like that before. It was like a mother he had never had, who took all the pain, sorrow and darkness away, putting his broken mind back together and leaving pure light behind.

_Sleep now child, you are safe._

Harry smiled and let the darkness overwhelm him.


	2. The Dark Lord's Musings

**Disclaimer:** nope

**A/N**: Thank you for all those who reviewed or added this to story alerts/favourites. It's really nice to know someone is reading my story.

**Madd Girl:** I can tell you that Harry won't get his wand (poor Harry, how will he stand up to Voldemort without his wand?) and for the other questions you need to read this chapter :)

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**2. The Dark Lord's Musings**

In the middle of Brecon Beacons National Park* there was a castle, a huge castle invisble to the muggle eye. It's beauty could rival Hogwarts, which was known to be one of the most magnificient achievements of the wizarding world. Unlike Hogwarts this ancient looking castle was known only by the heir of Slytherin and those who bore the Dark Mark on their left forearm. The castle served as a stronghold for the Dark. Some of the dark pureblood families, followers of the Dark Lord, had taken permanent residency in the castle. The place was so huge, one could get lost in its dark and dusty corridors if one didn't know his or her way in the castle.

One Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. had found this glorious building in his early 20's. Later, he had found out the castle had belonged to none other than Salazar Slytherin. As an heir of the ancient wizard, Riddle had gained access to the castle and to the knowledge it held protected inside its walls. The castle held powerful muggle repelling charms. No magicless being would ever stumble accidently onto the grounds of the Slytherin Castle.

Besides muggle repelling charm there were protective wards for the inhabitants, and offensive ones for the attackers, all casted hundreds of years ago. During the first Wizarding War Lord Voldemort had added his own portion of protective wards and plenty of nasty curses for those who tried to enter the castle. Thus it was impossible to walk around the ancient place, let alone enter the castle, if you weren't invited by the rightful owner; Lord Voldemort.

One of the occupants of the magical castle was thinking furiously behind the closed double doors of a grand study. The floor of the room was made of brown marble and the walls of grey stone. Green curtains with silver borders were covering the massive windows. Bookshelves ran up to the ceiling along two walls, and the third wall was bare. On the forth wall there stood an old looking cabinet, next to it was a moving portrait of Salazar Slytherin hanging on the wall.

In the middle of all this the Dark Lord Voldemort sat in front of a huge mahogany desk, his back facing enourmous fireplace made of limestone. Carved snakes were the only ornament of the heart for burning wood. The desk was utterly in a mess. It was filled with parchments, books and magical objects.

Voldemort sighed frustrated. He had a problem. While the castle had a huge collection of magical books from the household charms to the Dark Arts, there was still knowledge he couldn't tap into. You see, there were rooms that only Lord Slytherin could enter. And within those mysterious rooms there were books written in parseltongue by Salazar Slytherin. The books contained knowledge so dark and powerful that even the previous Lord Slytherins didn't dare to dabble with. But the most feared Dark Lord of the century would give anything to gain access to those rooms. Well, almost anything. And there lied the problem. Firstly Voldemort wasn't a Lord. No, he was only an heir to the Slytherin line. Secondly he knew how to gain the title of a Lord but the price was something he wasn't quite ready to pay.

In order to become Lord Slytherin, the heir had to get married, bond with someone for life. If Voldemort was to take this action he would be responsible to protect and care for his consort. Killing his spouse wouldn't be an option. They would be magically tied to each other, which meant it would be impossible to harm the other. If that wouldn't be the case, Voldemort would immediately bond with one of his lesser Death Eaters. After becoming a Lord he would kill the weakling. If he would be bound by magic from hurting his bonded, then the only solution would be letting someone else to kill his consort. One of his loyal Death Eater would eagerly take up the mission.

Of course there was a question would the magic force him to protect his consort, without his own consent? Would the magic take control of his body if he wouldn't make one move on his own to protect his other half? The questions seemed pretty pointless because there was still one major problem.

The consort of the Lord Slytherin had to be acknowledged as an equal. This was the last straw in the whole Lord business. He, the most feared wizard of the century, the almighty powerful Lord Voldemort, had no equal. He would never, NEVER, point some lesser being as his equal. That's why there had to be some other way in order to become the Lord Slytherin.

The red-eyed-wizard had started a hectic search, riffling every book that held any knowledge of gaining the title he so longed for. He had found nothing. Voldemort stopped his musings. What had he called his supposed future consort in his thoughts? The other half....

_Other half, _it sounded so...romantic. Something that Voldemort loathed with his whole being. He sneered at the whole idea. He had never been romantically involved with anyone. Granted he had had lovers, he still had. But nobody with brains would call them lovers. Not the way the Dark Lord treated them. He only took them to his bed. It was rough and not so enjoyable for the other, unless he or she was a masochist. After a good fuck, he disregarded his bedpartner, threw him or her out of his bed and out of his room.

Most of his Death Eaters had entertained him, they still did, regardless of his looks. Oh yes, Voldemort wasn't quite happy with his snake appearance. But it did have its uses he had to admit. His monstrous look made even the bravest man cover in fear. And fear was an excellent way of controlling his minions and enemies alike, it was also very good for motivation. Out of their fear, they respected him. Well of course he was also a very powerful wizard with a horrible temper, one reason to _respect_ and _fear_ him more.

Sometimes Voldemort caught himself thinking of the old days. The time he still had his handsome appearance. With his god-like looks and his powerful and seductive magic, wizards and witches came crawling to him. Yearning his attention, his acknowledgement, begging to serve him.

Naturally, he still had the same effect, his alluring aura took care of that. But it still hindered him that especially the newest Death Eaters had a hint of loathing towards his appearance in their eyes. He crucioed those kind of fools. The newest additions to his army learned quickly, and soon there weren't any of those who were brave enough to face his piercing gaze. So, they naturally ended up looking at the floor. As they should be, Voldemort mused. After all their place was on the floor, kissing the ground he walked upon.

The Dark Lord had tried to gain his youthful beauty back without succeed. It seemed the ghastly looking body was here to stay. Thus he had no other option than to cope with it.

Voldemort abruptly stood up. What was the time? He wandlessly and non-verbally casted tempus.

7pm.

He had send two newly recruited Death Eaters, Smithson and Berth if he recalled right, to watch the damned Potter brat. They were to inform when the pain of his existence left the blood wards. Thirty minutes ago Berth came to tell him that the Golden Boy had left the wards. He send Bellatrix and Lucius with lesser Death Eaters to catch the boy.

Why weren't they here yet? How hard was it to catch one underaged wizard? Voldemort started to fume in anger. Stun the boy, bind him and bring him here. Those were the specific orders he had given. He was also sure the Order of the Phoenix wouldn't be a problem. According to his spy, there was only one guarding the teen wizard; Mundungus Fletcher. A little thug hired by Dumbledore.

The old man was a fool, giving such a task for such an incompetent wizard. Voldemort gazed at the door.

"If they don't appear in one minute, someone is going to suffer!"

And so he waited. After a minute he waited for another. And then another. After 3 minutes he roared. "Wormtail!"

He heard someone stumbling on the corridor. Soon one of the double doors opened and in came a short pitiful looking wizard. His rat-like face showing the fear and awe towards the man before him. Wormtail hunched trying to make himself look less noticeable. Didn't work considering he was the only person in the room beside the powerful wizard who eyed the cowering animagus in disgust and resentment.

"M-master?" Wormtail stuttered while kissing the hem of Voldemort's robe. The Dark Lord kicked the balding wizard, sending him to the floor in a rush. The plump man yelped in pain.

"Why haven't I heard a single word from Bellatrix or Lucius? Surely they have already caught the Potter brat?"

"N-No...M-mas-master. I haven't s-s-seen them. They are n-n-not here, m-my Lord."

"Oh? Maybe you weren't alert. Maybe you weren't waiting by the front door as I ordered you to." Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously. He knew Wormtail hadn't disobeyed his orders. The rat-like wizard was a coward but not a fool when it came to obeying the Dark Lord's orders. He was only playing with the rat. It was very amusing to see the animagus almost pissing himself.

"No, master! I s-s-swear, I was at the front door! And nobody came i-in!" Wormtail yelped, shaking in fear. He gazed at his master with pleading look. He was met crimson eyes glinting in amusement.

"I believe you Wormtail. Now rise and go back to your duty."

The plump man rose as fast as he could, not wanting to lose any minute.

"As you wish, master." He bowed at the dangerous wizard and headed towards the door.

Ruby red eyes followed the back of the rat animagi. When the short wizard was about to leave the room Voldemort called his name caressing his wand between his long spidery fingers.

"Oh, and Wormtail."

The rat-faced man hastily turned around. He bowed again staring at his shoes. "Y-yes, my Lord?"

"Crucio!"

He watched his minion fall to the ground, writhing and screaming in agony. He could feel the dark magic circling around him, it was eagerly hurting the man on the ground. Voldmort ended the spell lazily. Without a second glance at the pile on the ground, he swept from the room. After conjuring his traveling robe, the man disappeared with a loud pop.

* * *

Hideous muggle houses surrounded him. They were all identical clones of themselves. Voldemort gave a disgusted look at the muggle street. The area was silent. No muggles running into him. It suited him fine. Not so far away from him, he heard screaming. He walked towards the sound.

The first thing he noticed were the spells swirling through the air. He stopped in the shadows, taking in the battle before him. His Death Eaters were fighting some of the Order members. Seems like his minions hadn't killed Potter's guard. They had let the little thug, Fletcher, alarm the order. He would punish his followers later.

His original plan was to capture the brat and bring him into his castle. He would have tortured the boy for weeks before killing him. He would have wanted to see the boy crack, beg for his mercy.

Potter scion deserved the worse. After all it was his fault Lord Voldemort had lived as a spirit for over 10 years. He could try to capture the boy while his Death Eaters were keeping the order busy.

"I will get you for that bitch!" He heard the brat yell. He observed the scene going on the street. Bellatrix was cackling madly at Potter. The werewolf, Lupin, was lying on the ground his shoulder bleeding badly.

"Ah, the reason of Potter's agitation." Voldemort smiled cruelly at the teen's agony. He stealthily approached Potter, wand ready in grasp. His dark form blended in with the shadows the houses casted on the street. Potter was looking for something. His head rolling from the left to the right. What was he searching for?

Voldemort looked more carefully at Potter. He gave a silent laugh. Foolish child, he has lost his wand. It would be so easy to kill him now. Well...maybe first a little torture session was in order. The crimson eyed wizard was about to crucio the brat when suddenly a thick fog fell heavily around the boy. The fog spread fast, reaching Voldemort in no time. He disapparated from the spot and appeared 20 metres away from the fog.

The boy had lost in the fog. He could still sense Potter's magic but couldn't identify the exact spot the boy was standing. Who had casted the spell? It reeked dark magic so obviously it had to be one of his followers. There was only one dark curse that came in form of a fog; Caligo curse. It was very easy to perform, far away from the advanced dark magic. But this couldn't be the fog curse. In Caligo, the fog came in swirls choking the victim. If the curse wasn't powerful enough, the fog would only leave red marks on the victims neck.

So, the caster couldn't be one of his followers either. Then who...? Voldemort eyed the on going battle on his left. They weren't battling so fiercely anymore. Everyone taking waring glances at the spreading fog now and then.

Voldemort stepped from the shadows just as a pink haired witch stunned his newly recruited Death Eater.

"Harry! Harry!" The witch shouted, desperately trying to see the boy through the fog. Voldemort recognized her as Nymphadora Tonks. Daughter of Andromeda Black who married a muggle thus dirtying the bloodlines of the Black family. Of course the muggle lover was disowned.

Such a pity. The little birds had told him the daughter of Andromeda was a Metamorphmagus. She would have been a great asset to the war but she had a filthy blood in her, and she was also beyond his reach; too loyal to Dumbledore. Hereby she had to die.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort had his wand pointed at Tonks. He watched how the green light flied towards the witch and then hit the tree behind her. Tonks was on the ground, Lupin laying protectively on top of her. Voldemort seethed in anger. Damn werewolf! He would die for his interferings.

Besides Lupin someone other had noticed his precence as well. While Bella yelled excitedly "My Lord!" The retaired auror with a magical eye roared at the young witch.

"He's here! Tonks! Go get Dumbledore! Hurry!"

The pink haired witch, serious expression with a shade of fear on her face, nodded ones and then apparated with the wounded werewolf.

"Master, we will take care of the order. The boy is in the fog!" The insane witch shouted gleefully at her Lord.

Like he didn't already know that. He would have rolled his eyes but he was above such human expressions so he turned his back at the battle and stepped into the fog. He would find the boy, torture him and finally kill him before the old coot arrived with reinforcements.

He couldn't see anything in the fog so he had to use his other senses. He focused on the boy's magic. He could feel it everywhere, it was intertwined with the magic of the fog...Odd. The grey thick fog clearly wasn't ordinary magic.

Voldemort closed his eyes, this time focusing on his own magic and onto the link he shared with Potter. He sent strong pulsating doses of his magic through the link to the boy. In this way he could get a mental bridge connected to the boy's mind. He couldn't send visions or invade Potter's mind but he could track the boy. He would only have to follow the formed mental bridge and he would find his prey.

Voldemort didn't like to use this method. It gave him a headache and he wasn't found of the idea of sending his magic to Potter. If the brat knew of the magic forming between them he could use it for his own advantage and draw power from Voldemort. For some reason Voldemort couldn't do this to the teen. Otherwise he would have drained the boy from magic long ago. Because Potter didn't know anything about mind magic, of this Voldemort was sure, it should be relatively safe for the Dark Lord to perform his act.

Found you.

The snake faced wizard turned on his heels and began to walk towards the teen. When he was near enough to see the dark figure in the fog he stopped. Potter hadn't noticed him. He was moving his mouth as if trying to talk but there was no sound. The brat still didn't have his wand. He had also lost his ridiculous looking glasses. Voldemort noticed for the first time that the boy was..._pretty. _

He observed his nemesis more closely. The boy wore baggy clothes, clearly too big for him. The brat was preposterous small. Potter looked like 5'3 tall...He also had a blooming bruise on his jaw. Most likely his followers had had a round with the boy.

The petite wizard really made him think. How could have this fragile looking child block his killing curse at the age of 15 months? How did the damn boy always escaped from his clutches...? Luck, it must be luck. Nevertheless his luck has run out. This time he would kill the boy. This time he would succeed.

He pointed his wand at the oblivious teen. " _Extium_ S_onus._" He whispered while making complex runes in the air. Colorless spell hit the boy. This particular curse was one he invented on his younger days. It created high-pitched sound which caused similar pain as cruciatus. Only it was much worse. The spell traveled along the ear canal, destroying ones hearing. From there it continued to the head and then- He stopped his musings when he noticed Potter hit the ground, convulsing in pain -and then the curse would affect the whole body making the victim convulse in pain, as Potter here on the ground was so generously displaying.

This was only first stage of the curse. The next stage was where the curse started to destroy ones memories, one by one. The victim would become disoriented and amnesic. Knowing nothing but the unbearable pain. The curse would destroy completely ones mind. After the mind it would move to eat the victims magic. In the final stage the victim would die.

The spell was extremelly hard to cast. It required highly amount of power from the caster. Also one had to be an expert in runes. Lastly the curse was powerful dark magic. He was the only one who was so deep in the Dark Arts so that he could successfully cast Extium Sonus. The curse was also hard to dodge because one couldn't see the spell. He had know idea if shielding charm would stop the curse. Nobody had ever had time to cast the charm when Voldemort used Extium Sonus.

Lord Voldemort locked his eyes on Potter's writhing form. He was witnessing the last moments of the brat. Soon, the Gryffindor would cease to exist.

Suddenly there was a brilliant pure light surrounding the boy. The light was so intense and _pure _that it made Voldemort uncomfortable at the same time feeling a small sting in his eyes and heart. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his face, trying to shield himself from the light. Suddenly he felt something probing his mind. He hurriedly strengthened his occlumency shields but it was in vain. Something was in his mind. Potter? No...it didn't feel the same.

It wasn't hurtful but it wasn't exactly gentle either. It was like a wind blowing faintly through his mind. And with the wind came a voice barely louder than a voice.

_You are next. _

The intense light and the fog was gone. So was Potter.

* * *

***Brecon Beacons National Park: **I was looking at the google maps (don't ask why) and noticed this huge park in Wales. So I decided to use it as a location for the Slytherin Castle.

_Extium Sonus_ is latin. I don't read latin so I just took them from dictionary. Extium means destruction and sonus means sound.

I know someone might think how the hell this all talk about Slytherin Lord and this bond business is related to the story. Well it is related to the plot, it will be essential in the later chapters. (Much later)

Yes, I know this might have been a bit boring chapter but it did answer to some of the questions what happend in the first chapter. And this one was Voldemort's point of view. There won't be much Voldemort's POVs in the future. This story will follow in Harry's POV. In next chapter there will be Harry and Voldemort encounters under the title _Welcome to the Red House. _That's all the info you'll get about the next chapter. And no, I haven't started to write it yet.

**Important note: **I would really like to know if my grammar is utter crap. And also could you tell me if there is something incoherent in the story or if there are misspellings that are happening in the same word repeatedly. I don't have a beta so I myself proof read my writings, usually 2-3 times. But I still can't notice all the mistakes. Anyway I would like to improve so if you notice anything or if something is bothering you then review. Thank you :)

**Random note of the day: **If you ever make enchiladas, try not to add too much cheese on it. Too much cheese equals grease which equals gross.


	3. Welcome to the Red House

**3. Welcome to the Red House**

Warm.

Harry turned on his left side and wrapped a blanket thighter around him. It was comfortable and warm. Why was it so warm? He always woke up shivering in cold. Dudley's old blanket was thin and had holes all over the fabric. Why hadn't his uncle come tear him out of his bed by his hair? He always did that when Harry accindently overslept. And the mattress, it was so soft. He almost sank into it....

Harry opened his eyes. He looked wildly around him. This wasn't his room. He was laying on a huge four posted bed, red blankets wrapped around him. He sat up and threw the blankets aside. What did he do yesterday? Harry frowned. He couldn't remember...No. He had to remember.

Think! He buried his face in his hands. He winced when his hand brushed his jaw. Harry raised his head and looked at his right. There was a mirror on the wall. He got up from the bed and slowly walked towards the mirror. His reflection was a bit blurry. He didn't have his glasses. Where were they? He looked back at the bed. His eyes searching the nightstand on the left side of the bed. There was nothing else but a red candle. Harry looked back at the mirror.

His raven hair was a mess. Nothing new there...it was always messy. He tried to straighten his locks with his hand but it stubbornly sticked out a bit. His hair wasn't so bad compared to what it used to be. After fourth year he let the hair grow. It was almost touching his shoulders now. He was definetely better looking with his hair long. But his bangs he wanted to cut. They flowed in front of his eyes.

His lips were too rosy for his liking, they made him look like some bloody girl. He had a pale skin and the colour of his emerald eyes were more intense than wonder his jaw hurt when he had touched it. He had a huge bruise on it. How did he...Oh! Vernon! That bastard had hit him there yesterday. Or at least Harry thought it happened yesterday. He wasn't sure how long he had been memories were slowly coming back to him. His obese uncle had send him for grocery shopping. Did he ever get to the store? Harry scratched his head thinking hard. No....there was something....Pain! He remembered the horrible pain.

Death Eaters! And the Order members!

Yes, yes. The Death Eaters attacked him. Tried to catch him and bring him to their lord. They failed because the order showed up...But then the fog came and with it came the high piched noise, ripping him, torturing him....And the voice! The gentle voice and the caress in his mind. What did the voice say?

Harry began to pace in the small room. Somehow he knew the voice was important but how? In which way? No matter how much he tried to think he couldn't remember the mysterious voice's words. Was it female or male's voice? He honestly didn't know. Harry stopped the pacing and sighed.

Why was he here? Who had brought him here? Were was here anyway? The teen looked at the room. It was small. Four-posted bed in the middle of it, next to it stood a nightstand. There was a small window which was covered by heavy red curtains. Opposite of the nightstand there was a door. A white simple looking door with a shining doorhandle made of brass. On the right side of the bed there was a light brown wardrobe. It almost reached the ceiling. Next to the wardrobe was a full length mirror, the mirror Harry was looking at himself few minutes ago. Opposite of the wardrobe there stood another door. Also white. The two doors where on the same wall, in the middle of these doors, there was desk agaisnt the white wall.

All in all the room looked like a muggle could live in it. Harry strolled to the window. He grapped the curtain and tried to slide it in front of the window but it didn't budge. What the hell? He tried again and again but still nothing. It was like the curtain was spelled to stay unmoving.

Harry let out a frustrated groan. If he could move the curtains he could get a hint where he was. Did the Death Eaters capture him after all? Brought him here in this room? No...It couldn't be. If they had captured him then he would be either in a cell or dead. He wouldn't have certainly find himself comfortable in a huge bed.

Harry walked to the door near him. He opened it slowly and stepped into....a kitchen. A very small kitchen. There was a white fridge, an oven and a sink. A long cupboard adorned one of the white walls. There weren't any windows. Next to the fridge there was another door. Harry swept from the kitchen through the other door. He observed the room. He was in a big living room. A dining table on his left, a brown pleasant looking couch, tv...Definetely a muggle house, Harry hymned. Coffee table in front of the couch, a cabinet next to the couch and an alcove in the farthest corner where stood a small bed with blue bed sheets. There was a big window with the same heavy red curtains as in the bedroom. The curtains didn't budge here either.

There was a doorway which connected the living room with a small hall. In the hall there was two white doors more and a brown door which looked like a front door. One wall of the hall was covered with two wardrobes.

Above the brown front door there was an incription: "Welcome to the Red House," Harry read. Seriously , where the hell was he? He went to the brown door and tried to open it but it was locked. Harry banged the door.

"Hello! Is there anyone? Let me out!"

No answer. Figures. If someone wanted to lock him up, then they would surely make sure there weren't any other people nearby. Harry opened the other white door in the hall. A small bathroom. Then he opened the other was back in the bedroom. So, it seemed he could go round around the place. He returned to the hall. The small wizard crossed his arms and stared at the front door. He could use magic to open it, right? Unless someone had used magic to lock it.

Harry reached to his pocket. It was empty. Then he reached to his other pocket. Also empty. Where was his wand? Had he dropped it somewhere? He ran for the bedroom, crouching on the floor he began to search for his wand. It wasn't on the floor so he checked under the had to fell to the ground and then roll under the bed or- Harry suddenly froze. Shit! He had left his wand on the street! He didn't have it with him.

Shit, shit, shit!

How would he survive without his wand? How would he defend himself agaisnt his kidnapper? Obviously someone had abducted him and locked him in this stupid house! He stood up from the floor and sat down on the bed. He felt panic building inside him. He felt like some caged animal. The green-eyed-wizard took a deep breath.

"Calm down," Harry talked to himself, "the Order will find me...they always do. In any minute they could charge through the door and rescue me." He stared at the floor, feeling lonely and lost. Suddenly he snapped out of his state. He should do something and not just sit on his lazy arse like some bloody scared poof.

He went to the living room, grabbed a chair and slammed it through the curtained window. Except it didn't go through. The chair pounced from the window hitting Harry on his chest. The impact made him fell to the ground, hitting his back of the head at the corner of the coffee table.

The Gryffindor winced in pain. He touched the back of his head. It felt wet and brought the hand he had touched the wound in front of his face, dreading the worse. Blood. Lots of it. There had to be something in the house he could cover his head wound and stop the blood from pouring.

Harry crawled to stand up. His head felt heavy and his sight got blurrier. He staggered a few steps until he collapsed on the couch, almost fainting. The wound in his head must be worse than he thought.

How he wished he had his wand with him! He didn't know many healing spells but he knew how to stop bleeding. Maybe he should try wandless magic? It had worked with the robe Bellatrix had conjured around him it could work now as well.

Harry tried to concentrate but it turned out to be difficult when an immense pain shot through his head.

"Oww..." How hard could he have possibly hit his head? Harry sucked a deep breath. He closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles, ignoring the pain. In his current state he clearly wasn't able to perform wandless magic, so he should try something else...

He reached for his magical core. This was something he had read in a book he had found in the Restricted Section on his second year. When he was looking for information of the Chamber of Secrets, the book called "_Find your inner self_" had literally hit him in the head. He had snatched the book inside his invisbility cloak and later forgot the book in his drunk. At the beginning of his third year he found the book and studied it.

The book had given the first impression of being utter crap but luckily he hadn't thrown the book away. He had eventually read it through. It instructed how to feel one's magical core and how to directly draw magic from it. When using a wand and incantation, they together draw automatically magic from the core and thus wizard or a witch has perfomed a spell. Not many knows that when the spell casting happens automatically, the spells are much weaker as they could be. This however, doesn't mean the wizard who casted the spell, couldn't do powerful magic with his wand. If he or she knew how to drew magic from his/her core directly, it would be ten times more powerful.

It had a catch though. One had to have a powerful magical core in order to reach to it. Using the direct power from the core made one exhausted and weak afterwards, so it wasn't very useful in the middle of a battle. Because of that Harry probably would never be able to use this technique to defeat Voldemort. If the spell would fail to kill the Dark Lord, it would leave Harry weak and defenless. Very easy prey for the madman.

Learning to find his own magical core had been difficult and time-consuming, it took year and a half to master it, but when he had learned how to reach to his core, drawing magic from it was easier than casting wandless felt pleasant pulsating inside him. His magical core. It was shaped as a brightly burning sun. It started to erupt white light, excited seeing Harry reaching down to it.

But something was wrong.

He couldn't reach his core! It was there shining brilliantly, inviting him to use it. But he just couldn't draw any power from it. It was like something was blocking his path. He tried to reach again and was slammed into something.

An invisible wall.

There was a fucking invisble wall inside him. Blocking his path to his magical core! Where did the wall came from? He had never had any obstacles to his core returned to his senses. He opened his eyes. So, he couldn't obviously use magic so he had to go to the bathroom and get some bandages for his head. He was about to get up, which was painfully agonizing, when he heard someone , not really heard, more like felt it. Someone laughed again. A pleasant humming went through his body. Harry looked around bewildered.

"Who's there?" He asked weakly.

The laughing happened again. It was like the house was laughing....Harry thought. With that the whole building vibrated a little. And _laughed._

Holy fuck! It's the damn house. Harry's eyes were the size of a saucer, his mouth agape and his pain forgotten. The house purred in delight.

Ok...so he, there was an angry shaking, _she _is alive. Harry gulped. Not to know what to think of a living house. His head gave an unpleasant throb. Harry hissed in pain closing his eyes. He opened them when he felt a tingling on the back of his head. And then...nothing. The pain was gone. He touched the wound. There wasn't anything. No wet blood or dried blood. It was completely healed.

He didn't feel dizzy anymore. He felt fine. How...? He wasn't the one healing his wound! He couldn't. Not even accidentally. His core was binded. He couldn't use magic. Was it the house?

"Uh...thanks, house." He tried but no answer. It was silent again. Had he imagined the whole scene? Maybe he fell asleep before he hit his head and saw this weird dream? No, it couldn't be because he visited his core and found the wall.

He would think about the living house later. He had more urgent matters to take care of; his magical core. It was horrible. He couldn't use magic. He could feel his core and his magic but couldn't use it. Harry felt like a squib. He had to get rid of the wall but first he had to get away from this house.

* * *

Harry had tried everything.

He couldn't get the front door open.

He couldn't get the curtains out of the way of the large windows.

He couldn't break the windows.

He couldn't get the TV work .

And lastly he couldn't reach his magical core.

In the middle of this hassle he had got thirsty and hungry so he had gone to the kitchen. He had searched through the cupboard but it was empty. Finally he had found strawberry juice and cold pasta in the fridge. He had ate the pasta and drank the juice regardless they could have been poisoned. But if someone really wanted him dead, there surely would have been easier ways to do that than lock him up in a magical house and poison him there.

Harry had found some books in the cabinet next to the couch. They were muggle books, _Oliver Twist _and _The Tale of Peter Rabbit_ _. _Children's books to be exact. The emerald-eyed wizard had searched the bedroom's wardrobe. It was empty. The wardrobes in the hall were also empty.

When he finished searching the last wardrobe he was exhausted. Harry entered the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed. He didn't know the time. There weren't any clocks in the house. He might as well go to sleep. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day.

* * *

CRASH.

Harry woke up. Someone was at the house. He was about to reach his wand under the pillow when he remembered he didn't have it with him. He silently got up from the bed. He had closed the both doors of the bedroom yesterday. He sneaked to the door that led to the hall.

Harry opened the door slowly, peeking in the hall. There was no one there. The crash must have come from the living room then. How he wished he had something he could use as a weapon. But the house's decoration was absolute tiptoed to the entrance of the living room. Someone was standing in the middle of the room . The figure had a black cloak, wizarding cloak Harry noticed, a hood covering his head. The mysterious person turned around abruptly facing Harry.

"Voldemort!" Harry screamed.

"Very observant, Potter." The Dark Lord had a wand in his hand pointing straight at Harry.

"Too bad I can't stay longer in your little house. I have a war to run. Avada Kedavra!"

Harry didn't have even time to blink when the man spat the killing curse. Much to their surprise, nothing happened. Harry's jaw dropped. Voldemort's eyes widened. Then narrowed from fury.

"Crucio!" Nothing.

"Imperio!" Still nothing.

"Eradico!" Nope, nothing happened.

Harry watched from the entrance how Voldemort grew angrier after every failed spell. First the teen just stood there, his mouth wide open until he began to feel somehow exhilarated. Voldemort couldn't do magic! His enemy was powerless! The big bad Dark Lord couldn't get even a sparkle out of his wand. With these thoughts Harry burst out laughing pointing his index finger at Voldemort.

"You! You have become a bloody squib! HAHA How the hell are you going to win a war now when you don't have even magic enough to kill me?" He snickered forgotting the fact he couldn't do any magic either. Oh, this was priceless.

Voldemort had stopped his miserable wand casting when he noticed the bloody Gryffindor laughing at him.

"You think I need magic to kill you? Oh, you are so wrong in that child." The Dark Lord smiled cruelly and lunged at Harry knocking them over the floor. He started choking the petite wizard under him, glee in his eyes. Voldemort gave a high pitched laugh.

"Who's laughing now, boy? Say hello to your father and mudblood mother for me!"

Harry tried to tear the hands away from his throat but his enemy was way too strong. Oh Merlin, he was really going to die this time. He wriggled underneath Voldemort but the man wouldn't budge. He was choking. He couldn't breath! Burning red eyes were the last thing Harry saw before he lost consciousness.

* * *

He opened his eyes.

He gazed at the brown ceiling. Is this were you go when you die? Harry thought. He rubbed his sore throat. If he's dead then why does he still feel pain? Oh no...did he end up in hell? Harry turned his head on the right. Brown door, white walls. Wait...he wasn't dead. He was still in the Red House!

Harry moved his limbs. He was laying on the floor at the exact same spot where Voldemort had choked him. The Boy-who-lived stood up fast. It made his head dizzy. He shook his head, he had to stay alert. Voldemort might still be here. But if the evil bastard was in the house, then why didn't Voldemort kill him?

Harry walked to the living room. Voldemort was standing by the large window, his back facing Harry.

"Took you long enough, Potter." The Dark Lord said still not facing Harry.

"I.." His throat was too dry and it still ached. Harry went to the kitchen his eyes on Voldemort's back the whole time. He took a glass of water and returned to the living room. Harry sat down on a small bed in the alcove. It was farthest away from Voldemort.

Harry took a sip of water, his throat feeling much better already. Voldemort turned around staring at the small wizard. An uncomfortable silence filled the room. After five minutes of staring each other Harry opened his mouth.

"So....you didn't kill me?" Harry honestly didn't know what else to say.

Voldemort raised his non-existence eyebrow. "No, I did not."

Harry gulped. "Uh...why?" He hoped Voldemort didn't spare him so the man would later torture him before finishing him off for good.

The Dark Lord stared blankly at Harry before he answered.

"I would have killed you but I wasn't able to. The house intervened."

"The house?" Harry frowned thinking about how exactly the house had intervened. "Well, it seems the house is alive or something." Harry thought about his healed head. Then he remembered something else he should ask. "Why haven't you left yet?"

Voldemort sneered. "Because I can't Potter. Do you think I would have stayed here with you if I had a chance of leaving this rotten place?"

Harry fidgeted uncomfortable on the bed gazing the curtained window behind Voldemort.

"So, we are stuck."

"No. You might be stuck but I will find way out and I will leave you to rot in your misery." Voldemort seethed.

Geez, the guy was so full of anger. Harry sighed. Well, he wasn't happy either to be stuck with his parents murderer. The Dark Lord turned his back to Harry and began to study the red curtains. Harry moved closer putting his empty water glass on the coffee table.

"There is something about these curtains." Voldemort gazed the curtains up and down. He narrowed his eyes while caressing the red fabric.

"They have the same feeling as this house. Evertything here reeks of magic. The house is full of... vibrating energy. Our cores are blocked thus preventing us to cast any kind of magic."

Harry looked at Voldemort. "I know our cores are blocked. I tried to reach my core earlier but there was an invisble wall surrounding the core." Take that bastard! I can figure things out on myself as well.

Voldemort stopped his scoping and glanced at Harry.

"You know about core magic." It wasn't a question. "I'm impressed." Voldemort said with a blank face. He turned back to the curtains. Harry left him there and went to the bathroom. In the hall something caught his eye. There was a small green mailbox next to the front door. Harry went to take a closer look at the box.

Under the cover there was a white tag. Harry had to narrow his eyes in order to see better. He so wished he had his glasses!

"Mr. Voldemort and Mr. Potter" Harry read aloud. What in the Merlin's name was that about?

"Aha!" Harry looked towards the living room. Wonder what he has done now. Harry quickly used the bathroom and then returned to living room.

Harry was greeted with a smugly smiling Voldemort. He had somehow managed to slid the curtains in front of the window. Harry peeked through the glass. There was a thick fog outside. Harry couldn't see anything. He opened the window and looked down. Fog there too. He couldn't tell if they were on the first floor or on the third floor. He didn't really want to find out by jumping out of the window and breaking his neck in case they were somewhere high. Harry turned to look at Voldemort. The dark wizard had a pensive look on him.

"There's a weird mailbox in the hall by the way. It wasn't there yesterday. You should take a look at it."

"A mailbox? I wonder..." And then he was gone. Harry stayed at the living room. He didn't want to follow Voldemort like some lost puppy. Harry scratched his head. It was weird how he and Voldemort could actually have a civil interaction. But no matter how civil the man could be Harry still had to be wary. Even if the house prevented Voldemort from killing him, the man could still hurt him.

Harry picked up _Oliver Twist_ and slowly browsed through it. He didn't have any interest in it but he didn't know what else to do. He was rather in the living room alone and bored than with Voldemort in the hall.

"Potter! Come here!"

Harry lazily put the book away and loitered slowly into the hall making sure it took ridiculously amount of time to reach his destination. In the hall stood impatiently looking Voldemort. His eyes pierced through Harry. If the Dark Lord could have used his magic, he would have crucioed Harry on the spot.

"When I order you to come to me. You run." Voldemort hissed angrily.

"I'm not one of your brainless followers. You can't order me around." Harry held his head high, crossing his arms and seething in annoyance. Voldemort took a step forward grapping Harry by his neck. He lowered his head so his red eyes were at the same level as angry emerald ones.

Voldemort was so close that if he had had a nose, it would have been touching Harrys.

"Listen brat, I make the rules in this house from now on. You'll follow them or you'll suffer. Is this understood?" Harry could feel the warm breath on his skin.

No way in hell would he listen to this bastard and his stupid rules!

"Answer me!" The grip on his neck tightened.

"Hell no!" And then Harry headbutted the Dark Lord. Merlin it made his head hurt. Voldemort lost his grip and made an angry hiss while Harry run past him into the bathroom. It was the only room with a lock on the door.

"YOU FUCKING BRAT! YOU COME OUT OF THE BATHROOM THIS INSTANT! OR I WILL BREAK THE DOOR!"

Harry sat down on the toilet seat. "No! Stay away you psychopath! Just leave me alone!"

Something slammed agaisnt the door. Harry winced. The door would hold. It had to. Voldemort couldn't enter here.

"Leave you alone? LEAVE YOU ALONE!!" SLAM. "Oh, no _Harry_," SLAM. "I will never leave you alone!" SLAM. "Not until I can see your dead body at my feet. Bloodied and broken!" SLAM.

Then the slamming suddenly stopped. "Child, if you open this door now, I promise not to touch you."

"You liar! The moment I open the door, you will probably choke me again! I'm not leaving!"

"Come now, Potter. There is something I need to tell you. I know how we can get out of this house." Came a muffled voice behind the door.

"Oh really? Didn't you threaten you would live me here to rot if you found away out?" Harry snorted.

"A change of plans. We need to cooperate in order to get out. Just come out of the bathroom so I can tell. I promise I won't hurt you."

Harry scoffed not trusting the man to keep his word. "Why don't you say it from there. I can perfectly hear you." There was silence for a couple of minutes.

"Fine. Be a brat then." A pause. "This place, the Red House, is a portal. A portal between different worlds. Only way out of this house is through the front door. In order to get the front door open, the house needs to be anchored into one of the worlds."

Harry was silent. How on earth the snake face came up with that kind of explanation? If this was only a plot to get Harry out of the bathroom he took the bait."So, we can't open the door because we are... not anchored currently? Like we are drifting?"

"Yes, you could call it that. The door's magic is binded to ours. Which means it can be opened only when both of us are _alive_. If one dies, the magic dies and then the other will be caged here forever. Thus we can't kill each other." The last sentence sounded a little too bitter into Harry's ears.

"But we can't use our magic! It's blocked. How can we open the door?"

"You stupid child. Keyword,_ blocked _Potter. Not gone. We still have our magic in us and it is enough to open the door." Harry bit his lower lip, not bothered at all the man had called him stupid. The Dark Lord liked to taunt him. He was used to it. Besides he couldn't really expect praises from the man, could he now?

"When will the house anchor then?"

A silence. Then very quiet "I don't know" came through the door. It sounded like it was really difficult for Voldemort to admit his ignorance in the matter.

"How did you came up with all this?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Why don't you come here and I'll tell." The Dark Lord said in a light tone.

Harry looked at the door, eyes glazed. Should he open it? What if the madman choked him again? "Do you promise you won't hurt me?"

"Yesss, I promise. We don't have time for petty fights Potter." Harry heard him hiss. He didn't want to spent the rest of the day in the bathroom so Harry opened the door, trusting the Dark Lord wouldn't jump at him. How wrong he was.

The moment Harry stepped from the room, Voldemort grapped him from his collar pinning him against the wall.

"You still have lot to learn child. You should have made me swear on my magic. Unfortunately for you, it is too late for that." Harry struggled, trying to free himself from the furious wizard's grasp. He was an idiot! He should have known not to trust the snake-face. So the man had lied to him about the whole theory of the house! Harry was thrown against the front door. Air escaping his lungs and a trail of blood coming out of his mouth. He had bit his tongue. Harry crumpled to the floor.

Voldemort stood next to him staring at the teen. "When you have strenght enough to gather your pitiful self from the floor come to the living room." He looked around the hall "We need to have a chat about this portal-house."

Voldemort hadn't lied. They would get out of the house! Thank Merlin. Harry took a couple deep breath before getting up.

* * *

Harry sat at the table sipping his tea and glaring at Voldemort who sat cozily opposite him. The evil bastard had forced Harry to make some tea. Harry had done the man's bidding. Very reluctantly though. He didn't want to be thrown against a wall again. His aching back was enough. Harry had learned something interesting about the kitchen. The empty cupboards before were now full of food. At least they would not die of hunger. The house took care of that.

"So, why are you so sure this house is a portal?" Harry sipped his tea again wishing they had had biscuits.

"I have read about portals. From a very reliable source. One of my ancestors, Hurdlian Gaunt ,was trapped in a portal-house. He left a journal behind him. Writing down everything he experienced while being in the house. " Harry nodded. Apparently this Hurdlian guy had got out from the house because Voldemort had his journal.

"He wrote he couldn't use magic inside the house, when looking through the window he saw nothing but thick fog. There was also a mailbox -his name carved in it- which he called "wooden box in which magically appeared the most extraordinary things". He wrote about the front door, how his magic was bind to it and how it opened to the different enviroments. Later he realized they were different worlds. He wasn't sure how long he had spent in the house but he estimated half a year."

"Half a year!" Harry shouted standing up. "I can't be here half a year. Not with....not with _you_." Harry felt sick. Would he really had to spent six months with the snake-face? And what about his friends? They would worry sick about him. And Hogwarts! He would miss the beginning of his sixth year.

Voldemort glared at Harry, silently ordering Harry to sit down. "I haven't finished yet Potter." Harry sat down crossing his arms.

"When the house anchored for the first time, Hurdlian realized it wasn't his world. He spent four months in there not knowing how to make the portal leave the world."

"Are you saying," Harry interupted "that this house, this portal remained in the world he entered? He could get back in the house? How?"

"I don't know how. The journal is old and it lacks more than few pages. But nevertheless he came back to the house. He found out there was a parchment in the wooden box. It contained instrutions what he had to do in that world, it was some kind of task. After he had completed his mission, the house moved onto the next world."

"Does that mean we need to do tasks too? What kind of tasks?" Harry asked confused.

"It could be anything..."

"Didn't your ancestor write them down?"

"Like I said Potter, the journal is missing more than few pages."

"Huh...What about the house? Was there anything about it being alive?"

"No, Hurdlian descriped it as a normal wizarding cottage. Only source of magic in the house came from the front door." Voldemort said, his finger caressing his nonexistent lower lip while gazing pensively at Harry.

"But this house has magic all around it, I mean, it's alive for Merlin's sake! I heard it laughing! And it healed my head!"

Voldemort stared at Harry. "Healed your head? When did this happened?"

"I fell to the ground, hitting my head on the coffee table. I tried to break the window with a chair. But it pounced back and I fell. The house healed my wound. It happened yesterday."

Voldemort burst out laughing. "Only you could be so foolish as trying to break a magical window with a chair. And you even succeeded hitting your head! If the house hadn't healed you, I would surely be rid of you already."

"Ha ha. Very funny." Harry pouted. But really, what else could he expect from the man? A few compassionate words? He was a bloody Dark Lord. Of course he would find Harry's pain funny.

Harry wanted to punch Voldemort in his face but he had to restrain himself. Angering the Dark Lord wasn't a good idea. "How did Hurdlian end up in the house in the first place?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. You, however, were transported here by a fog, no?"

Harry's eyes widened a tad. "Yes, I think so. The last thing I remember was this thick fog. I thought it was a spell one of your Death Eaters send in my way. But apparently not." Harry narrowed his eyes, trying to burn a whole through the Dark Lord with his gaze. "I remember this very high-pitched noise. It was painful. And then there was a voice. I don't remember what it said but it took the pain away...Did the fog take you too?" The green-eyed-wizard asked, raising his eyebrows guestionally.

"Yes, I was in my study torturing muggles," Voldemort smiled dreamily while Harry had a sudden urge to punch the man. Again. "when suddenly a thick fog surrounded me. Then there was a bright flash and I found myself standing in the middle of this living room."

"No high-pitched noise? Or the voice?"

Voldemort chuckled. "The pain and the noise you felt, it was caused by me." Harry looked confused. "I was there boy, in that muggle street. I saw you disappear in the fog. I followed and intended to kill you. I threw a spell at you. Extium Sonus, a little invention of mine. You can be thankful for the fog because without it you would be dead." Then he started to cackle madly.

Harry just stared. The horrible pain was because of this bastard before him? Harry clenched his fists in anger. For a sudden impulse, he took his empty tea mug and was about to throw it at Voldemort when the window on his right suddenly banged open. Harry lost his balance because he was startled by the loud noice. He fell towards the open window. When the petite wizard's body hit against a window sill, the mug in his hand dropped into the fog.

Voldemort had stopped laughing, his eyes fixed on Harry. "I have never seen someone as clumsy as you. It's a wonder how you have survided all these years."

The smaller wizard was about to retort back when a small thud came near the coffee table. Voldemort stood up. With a few steps he was beside the small table. Harry saw him picking up something from the ground. The Dark Lord was holding a brown mug in his left hand.

"Interesting. Your tea mug, I assume?" Harry looked at the mug dumbfounded. He had just dropped it from the window! "How is that possible? I saw it disappear into the fog."

"This is a magical house Potter. Anything is possible." Voldemort stated. He walked to the window and dropped the mug again. Then he turned to look at the coffee table. Harry followed his gaze. Soon enough a mug appeared in the air, falling down to the floor.

Voldemort went to pick up the mug again and this time he threw it out of the window. The mug fell to the living room floor again. "Potter, give that book from the coffee table." Harry went to pick up _Oliver Twist _and handed it to Voldemort. He did the same with the book as he had done with the mug. The book also appeared in the air, falling down on the same spot as the mug had.

"Sooo...anything we throw outside, will appear back into the house?" Harry confirmed. " What if you drop a person in the fog?" Harry peeked at the fog through the open window. He turned to Voldemort when he wasn't getting any answer. The tall man was smiling maliciously at him. Harry gulped. "Want to find out?" With that Harry was picked up from the floor and thrown out into the fog.

He fell, and fell and fell. He saw nothing but grey. And suddenly his eyes were full of brown floor. He was back at the house.

"Oww..." Harry moaned. He would have a large bruise on his stomach tomorrow. He slowly got up . He rubbed his aching tummy. "What's wrong with you?" He turned towards the figure standing in front of the window. "You just can't go throwing people through the windows! I could have died and then you would have been left here alone. FOREVER. You are bloody insane!" He picked up the book from the floor and threw it at Voldemort.

The Dark Lord dodged the flying book. "Now, now Potter. You wanted yourself to know what happens when a person is thrown into the fog. I answered your guestion."

"_You _could have jumped through the window!? Arggh!! Never mind! Just forget it!" Harry yelled stomping from the living room. He was caught by Voldemort at the entrance to the bedroom. Harry was easily hoisted over Voldemort's shoulder.

"My experiment isn't over yet Potter." The Dark Lord walked back to the window. He placed the tea mug to Harry's hand and tossed the boy once again through the open window. Harry gripped the mug tightly, falling down again and dreading the painful impact with the floor.

THUD. This time he had fallen on his back still holding the brown mug in his grasp. After this Harry was thrown out four times more. Every time Voldemort thrusted a different object in his hand. Harry couldn't really stop the man. He was so much smaller than the madman that he couldn't fight back. He really wished he could use his magic. When Harry was laying on the floor for the 5th time he managed to speak.

"Is there...any reason...for this...or....are you doing...it only for....your own amusement?" Harry huffed his eyes closed.

"You didn't notice? When you first fell out of the window, it took 10 seconds for you to appear back in the house. The mug took 15 seconds. With you holding the mug it took 5 seconds. The fastest was when you were holding the book and the mug. Took only 2 seconds."

"And how the hell do you think that will help us in any way!" Harry screamed from the floor. He was sure Voldemort would accidently kill him with his experiments. How the hell would he survive in the same house with a psychopath?

"It might be useful later." The Dark Lord shrugged not being repentant at all.

Harry sighed. Don't answer back, he's not worth it. Harry opened his eyes, something came to his mind. He locked his eyes with red ones.

"Have you any idea who sent us here? Or is this just some kind of accidental magic that happens?"

Voldemort was quiet for a few minutes. "You said you heard a voice before you disappeared? I heard it too. At the muggle street yesterday, there was a whisper in my mind, saying "_you are next"_. And today in my study, just before the light took me, there was the same whisper "_Learn you must_..._"_."

Harry stared. Voldemort stared back. Harry was the one to broke the silence between them. "Learn you must what?"

Voldemort remained silent. Harry sighed. "So, someone did this to us? It's a person then?"

"I think so. _He_ must be someone very powerful. This kind of magic," Voldemort observed the room," is unheard of. I can sense Elemental magic interwined with Dark and Blood magic. You don't mix these three together. It would be disastrous. And yet here we are in this house, which shouldn't even exist according to the laws of magic."

Harry hadn't ever heard about elemental magic and he always thought that blood magic was dark magic.

"You know, I just realized something." Voldemort looked at him quizzically.

Harry smirked. "Someone out there, is way more powerful than you are. And you always thought you were the greatest wizard of our time, _Tom._"

Once again Harry was thrown out of the window.

* * *

**A/N: **A long chapter. I first thought cutting it in two but in the end I decided to make it one long chapter. And tell you the truth I think it's better this way. By the way this will be dark!Harry and elemental!Harry fic. I actually forgot to put them on the summary. I will add them later.

**The Walrus I Am: **Thanks for the info about Brecon Beacons park. I will edit the "western England" to Wales. Really, I was never good at geography _ And thanks for the other reviewers too.


	4. Killing Lizards

**4. Killing Lizards**

Harry had had the worst night ever.

His bed was a major problem. He had a too thin pillow, his mattress was a sleeper-hostile and the fabric of his blanket was very rough against his skin. Even his bed in his relatives home was better than this little bed in the alcove. Oh yes. He, Harry Potter who was in the Red House before Voldemort , had forced to sleep in the small bed in the living room. Yesterday the green-eyed-teen had sleepily walked into the bedroom, ready for the dreamworld, when Voldemort had dragged him out of the room and tossed him on the small blue bed. The Dark Lord had declared the bedroom to belong to him and him only. Harry couldn't have that so he had yelled at Voldemort how he was the first one in the house and how he had already slept in the bedroom which made the room his. To this, Voldemort had openly laughed and threatened to torture Harry in his sleep if he didn't stop his whining. After that, Voldemort disappeared into the bedroom, shutting the both bedroom doors.

For a couple of good hours Harry had pondered nasty ways of getting back at the man but eventually he had fallen asleep. He had woken up every hour fearing that Voldemort would come and hurt him in his sleep. For his surprise, there was no hostile attacks during the night. Harry had been sure the man would try something, after all "Hurting Harry" seemed to be Voldemort's newest hobby. Not that Harry minded...much. From "Killing Harry" to "Hurting Harry" was a huge progress. This, however, didn't mean Harry trusted Voldemort one bit. Even if there was one night without violence, it didn't mean the next night would be the same.

It made Harry think though. Why hadn't the evil overlord done anything to him? Well, it was Voldemort's first night in the house, so maybe he had been too exhausted to attack him? Nah, Voldemort was never exhausted when it was a matter of hurting his enemy...Argh! He couldn't think straight! He hadn't gotten much sleep during the night. "Stupid bed, stupid Voldemort," Harry muttered while wrapping the blanket more tightly around him. He had no idea what the time was. Why didn't the stupid house have a clock? He closed his eyes. But no matter how tired he was, he couldn't get any sleep. So Harry got up and stomped to the bathroom. After taking a shower and brushing his teeth, he went to the kitchen in hope of finding bacon and eggs in the fridge.

While Harry searched the fridge, which turned to be empty, Voldemort glided gracefully from the bedroom. Harry turned to look at the man. At least somebody slept well, Harry thought bitterly.

"Potter, make some breakfast." The Dark Lord ordered while sitting at the dining table. Harry glared the man. He couldn't take this. Not when he already had such a bad night. He was annoyed, cranky and tired. He had also a sore body. Thank you for the falling-down-from-the-window episode yesterday. He didn't want to deal with an arrogant and a bossy Dark Lord so early in the morning. Not that he was even sure it was early morning. At least it felt like it.

"Why don't you make your own breakfast! I'm not your house-elf nor your servant!" Voldemort had an unreadable mask on his face. "Potter, don't yell at the morning. You will make my head hurt. Now chop-chop. The breakfast isn't making itself."

Harry gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Why did he always had an urge to attack the snake-face when the said man opened his mouth? Harry turned his back saying nothing. He walked to a cupboard.

"Calm down. You need to restrain yourself," Harry muttered under his breath while trying to control his anger. Fine. Let the man have his breakfast. He reached inside the cupboard. Bacon and eggs? In the cupboard? Not in the fridge. Odd. There was also...icecubes? How the hell they didn't melt? "Huh, weird house", Harry mused. After going through dozen of weird ingredients Harry found canned peasoup. He looked at the picture of the tag on the can.

"Looks nasty. Perfect." Harry smirked at the can. He put the green goo into a boiler and added water. It took 5-10 minutes to heat the soup. If Voldemort thought he could get the meal of his dreams he would be in for a big surprise. Soon the man would learn to make his own damn breakfast. For himself Harry would make bacon and eggs after Voldemort ate his soup. He wouldn't want the older wizard to steal his food if he realized that Harry made proper breakfast for himself and gave some shitty food for Voldemort.

Harry stirred the green soup. Finally, it was ready. He took it to Voldemort. "Took you long enough. Next time, be faster. You wouldn't want-" The tall wizard stopped abruptly, looking down at his bowl in disgust.

"What is this? Your puke?"

Harry smiled innocently. "It's your breakfast. You wanted one, I made you one." Voldemort narrowed his eyes looking at Harry. He pushed the soup farther away from him. "I'm not eating this!"

Harry crossed his arms. He had to do everything not to smirk at the man. "You sound like a child. Is this how you speak to your house-elfs if their food don't please you?" Voldemort seethed. "My house-elfs would never make this kind of crap! _You_ are a terrible cook Potter."

"I never said I was a good one. Besides it's not that I had much of a choice. There was nothing else than this soup. So be ready to eat it every day," Harry lied. "You should better start eating it. I'm sure it tastes better than looks." Harry couldn't prevent his smile anymore so he smirked at the man. Voldemort glared back at him.

"Oh? Where is your food Potter? I don't see you eating it."

Harry went to pick up a glass of water from the kitchen. He showed the water to Voldemort. "Here is my breakfast. I can't really stomach food in the mornings." Harry sat onto the couch. He took _Oliver Twist _ and pretented to read it. He watched Voldemort out of the corner of his eye. The Dark Lord was staring at his soup, a spoon in his right hand. Harry snickered in his mind when the older wizard tasted the soup muttering how disgusting the soup was. Harry was rather surprised that Voldemort didn't throw his breakfast away. After Voldemort was finished, he hurried to the bathroom. Harry thought he went to throw up but a running water proved him wrong. While Voldemort was at the shower, the teen ran to the kitchen and hurriedly made some bacon and eggs for himself. All the while smiling widely.

* * *

Harry tapped his fingers on the table one by one. Voldemort read a book on the couch. He had found Dark Arts books from the wardrobe in his bedroom. Apparently Voldemort had thought of books. Wishing he had a couple of Dark Art tomes to keep him company because Harry wasn't entertaining enough, and voilà couple of Dark Art books appeared into the wardrobe. After this Harry had wished for a new mattress, a pillow and a blanket. After few minutes he had received a new set of beddings. They had learned that besides receiving new objects, they could also make some objects disappear into the wardrobe. When Harry had gotten rid of his old beddings, Voldemort had forced Harry into the wardrobe hoping it would vanish the boy. This however didn't happen much to Voldemort's disappointment.

Using wardrobes turned out to be very easy. They only had to ask or think something very hard and the Red House would provide the asked objects to them. There were boundaries however. The house provided only books, toiletries, tableware, clean clothes (which were exactly the same they were currently wearing) and beddings.

Harry stopped the tapping. "Voldemort?"

"Yes?" He didn't take his eyes from the book.

"I was wondering..."Harry cleared his throat before continuing, "before you disappeared from our world, the voice said that you must learn something. So what do you think that is?" Harry had his own hunches. There were many things Voldemort should _and_ needed to learn, they all were something the Dark Lord lacked. Like compassion, kindness, love, forgiveness...uh...sanity? Was that something Voldemort could learn? Anger-managment? Well, he obviously needed it. But how the hell could Voldemort learn all of those? In Harry's opinion Voldemort was incapable of learning emotions. At least in an environment like this. Well, maybe the company wasn't very ideal to help him either. What the evil bastard really needed was therapy or electric shock treatment... Harry snickered when he imagined Voldemort in a loony bin.

"And why do you think I would give you an answer?" Voldemort turned to look at Harry.

"I don't. But I can always try," Harry said hopefully as he gazed at Voldemort.

"You are wasting my time, boy," the Dark Lord sneered.

Harry sighed. What time? They had nothing but time in this little house. Harry leaned his head on the dining table. Did Voldemort knew there was something he had to learn? Maybe he was thinking it differently than Harry. When Harry thought it was something about feelings or behaviour, maybe Voldemort thought it was about knowledge? Oh, that would be just like him, Harry bit his lower lip. This wasn't really the question he should think about...The real question was, who was behind their capture? And what did that powerful wizard want with them? Harry pondered.

When the house would anchor into another world, they would need to do some tasks. Which meant they would need to work together. Did their kidnapper want them to co-operate? To learn _how_ to co-operate? To tolerate each other? Or did he want them to finish each other off? Too many questions without answers. Harry let out a deep sigh.

All of a sudden the house started to shake. Violently. It was like a damn earthquake. Harry fell out of his chair while Voldemort observed the walls and the ceiling. "What the bloody hell is happening?" Harry yelled. The noise was horrible. The shaking of the house sounded as if thousands of elephants stomped right next to them. Harry peeked at Voldemort as the teen settled down to his knees. The snake-face had no trouble sitting on the couch. It was like there wasn't any earthquake. How the hell could Voldemort sit like a statue when Harry had so much trouble to stay still while sitting? The shaking stopped as suddenly as it started.

"We have anchored." Voldemort said, his gaze still at the ceiling.

"What are you looking at?" Harry frowned at Voldemort. So, they had finally anchored to another world? Hurray, no more this little house. He could finally get some fresh air.

"At the strings of magic. They have changed," Voldemort glanced at Harry, "come, I'm sure we can open the front door." Harry had no idea how Voldemort could see something like magical strings. Sometimes he suspected that Voldemort only made up stories so he could look smarter. Harry stood up and all but ran to the hall. The brown door was shining dim blue light. Harry reached for the doorknob. He tried to open the door but nothing happened. Harry turned to look at Voldemort. "It's not opening! Maybe we have to open it together?"

The Dark wizard walked calmly to the front door. He trailed the door with his hand. "It's not complete. We need to wait for a bit." So, maybe Voldemort did feel and see the house's magic. He did say on his first day something about the house's magic. Something about it containing Elemental, Blood and Dark magic...Besides, why would Voldemort lie something like that? Oh yeah, he wanted to look smarter, Harry snickered. If Voldemort's ability of sensing and seeing magic was true -which Harry couldn't really doubt, after all the man was powerful- he wished he could sense them too. It seemed to be handy. Besides if he could then he wouldn't need to make himself look like an ignorant fool all the time. Feeling the house's magic like Voldemort did was something he would learn, Harry promised to himself.

He stared at the door for a while until he felt like his eyes were seeing nothing but blue light. He had to tear his gaze away from the door. Harry's eyes locked to the wardrobes in the hall. They were shimmering the same dim blue light. "Voldemort! The wardrobes are shining too!" Without waiting for an answer Harry walked to them and yanked the other wardrobe open. A simple black cloak was hanging in a hanger. It looked pretty much the same as the one Voldemort was wearing. Beside the cloak there was a grey woollen long sleeved shirt. Over the shirt was a brown leather waistcoat. On the bottom of the wardrope there was a heap of brown leather fabric. Harry picked up the fabric heap. It turned out to be loose leather pants.

"Are we supposed to put these on?" Harry glanced at the cloak. It looked too big for him so it must be for Voldemort. That left the horrible leather outfit to Harry. Voldemort took the cloak from the hanger and put it on.

"It's not fair. Why do you have a cloak and I have to wear this leather outfit? I want a cloak too. I -" Harry was interrupted when he felt two set of invisible hands grapping and pulling him into the wardrobe. When Harry had disappeared inside the wardrobe, the doors shut with a bang leaving surprised Voldemort behind.

Harry screamed. There were hands everywhere! Invisble hands. They were ripping his clothes off and putting new ones on. After two minutes the wardrobe doors opened and a shaking Harry stepped out. Voldemort raised his nonexistant eyebrows. Harry gulped wrapping his arms around him. His hair was like a bird nest and his clothes were wrinkled.

"There were invisble hands...everywhere! They took my clothes off and put these," Harry gestured the leather vest and pants, and a woollen long sleeved shirt with his hands, "on me! Hurdlian didn't mention anything about the wardrobe forcing you to dress, did he?" Harry huffed. He didn't want to experiment something like that ever again. Voldemort burst out laughing.

"Oh child, you amuse me to no end." Harry took a deep shaky breath. Self-control, self-control, he kept saying to himself. After several minutes Voldemort controlled himself. He pointed at the front door."Take a look at the door." Harry looked. It wasn't shining anymore. The teen wizard raised his eyebrows. Maybe the door could be opened only when they took the clothes from the wardrobe? What was with the clothes anyway? Would they need to wear something different for every task?

Harry watched as Voldemort went to the mailbox. The Dark Lord opened it and grapped a rolled parchment. "Ignoring this, Hurdlian was stuck four months in the first world." Voldemort waved the rolled parchment in front of Harry's face. "Yeah, yeah. Hurry up, open it." Harry couldn't wait to know what was their first task.

Voldemort slapped Harry on the head. "Patience." Harry hissed threateningly at him. If the man slapped him one more time he would rip his eyes off.

"What are you hissing, child? I thought you were a lion, not a snake," Voldemort eyed the younger wizard in amusement. Harry huffed looking at the ceiling. "Can't you just open it already?"

Voldemort rolled the parchment open. Harry stood on his toes so he could get a better glimpse.

"_A man with a blue pointed hat and a blue cloak needs you_." Harry read aloud. There was silence. Harry stared at the text. It was written in red ink. The handwriting was very neat. "That's it? _That's it_?? There must be hundreds of people who wear a blue hat and a blue cloak!" Harry ranted.

Voldemort took it calmer. "Not necessarily. What can you tell me about the clothes?" Voldemort gazed down at Harry. Harry frowned. The clothes..."Oh! A pointy hat and a cloak. Wizarding clothes!" Harry flushed a bit. Voldemort gave a small creepy smile. At least it looked creepy to Harry.

"Indeed. And what do we know about this world we are about to enter?"

"Uh...Nothing. It...Well, it might be the same as ours right? A world with magical people and non-magical...or maybe it's a world full of magical people only? Then it would be harder to find the man."

"Ah, Harry. Your brainwork makes me so proud." With that the Dark Lord opened the door and stepped outside. What the hell was his problem? Harry seethed. First the snake bastard seemed almost nice and then he mocked him. He would so kick his arse someday. For now, he would settle for observe the megalomaniac. Who knew, maybe he would find some kind of weakness one day? With those thoughts, Harry stormed to the outside world.

* * *

The portal entrance had appeared in the middle of a green meadow. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the world was smiling. Still there was something wrong with Harry. The moment he entered the new world he knew something was wrong. He had watched how Voldemort was able to use his magic again. The man had crucioed everything in sight, three times the curse had almost hit Harry. Voldemort had cast numerous nasty spells on the meadow but the smaller wizard hadn't really paid heed to this. He was too far in his thoughts.

They could use magic in this world.

Correction; Voldemort could. Harry couldn't.

The reason Harry couldn't perform any magic wasn't due to him having no wand. The reason was that Harry's core was still binded. Why was his core binded but Voldemort's wasn't? Why was this happening to him? How could he survive without his magic? One thing was clear: He couldn't let Voldemort find out that he couldn't use his magic. It should be easy because he didn't have his wand and Voldemort didn't expect him to know any wandless magic, right? Oh crap, Harry thought, the snake-face was a Legilimency! He could find out that Harry couldn't use his magic among other things. He shouldn't look at the man's eyes then. Right, avoid his gaze. Harry sat down on his knees, staring at a small blue flower in front of him.

Wait...why was he afraid that Voldemort would know he couldn't do any magic? It wasn't like the man would kill him. He couldn't. Not if the Dark Lord wanted to return to their real world. But what if Voldemort found a world that was better than theirs? Would he want to stay? Would he then kill Harry? If he killed him, would Voldemort be able to remain in that world or would the Red House force him back into the house, trap him forever? Nah, Voldemort wouldn't abandon their world. He already had everything in there. He wouldn't want to start everything over in somewhere else.

Harry looked over Voldemort. The Dark Lord was gleefully playing with his powers. The man had set half of the meadow in fire. Now he was extinguishing that said fire. Harry couldn't really blame the man. After all the Dark Lord had used to perform magic everyday for years. To be able to freely use magic anywhere and anytime he wanted, was a part of him. His powers being bound in the house had to be more difficult for Voldemort than Harry. The teen wasn't trying to sympathize Voldemort. Heck no! Only Merlin knew the man didn't deserve Harry's sympathy. It was just that Harry could understand why the man was playing with his powers. Hell, if Harry could use his magic, he would probably be setting fires too.

Harry closed his eyes and reached for his magical core. Brilliant shining and warmness met him. And an invisible wall. It was still there. Strong and unbreakable. Harry stared at the wall, trying to see something. But of course he couldn't see. It was invisible after all. Harry circeled the core. Trying to sense it through the wall. He stopped. Something was different. He reached the wall with his hand. It felt warmer than usual. He moved his hand on the left. Colder. He moved his hand back on the warm spot. Something was tingling against his palm. Harry let out a gasp. There was a small hole in the wall! Harry eagerly reached the core through the hole. Magic was pouring through it!

Harry opened his eyes. He should find out how much magic he could use. He brought his hand toward the small blue flower, only his index finger touching the fragile petals. He pulled magic from his core through the small hole in the wall. The flower on the ground grew five petals more. Harry could have jumped from joy. Granted, it was only minor magic, nothing grand. But finally he could do something! Even a tiniest magic he could perform was enough for him. For now, he could only use core magic. Small spells wouldn't exhaust him so he should be fine. Currently the hole in the wall was too small for the magic he needed if he wanted to use wandless spells. He would gradually widen the hole while the magic was poring through the wall. Harry snickered to himself. He would get rid of the wall. It would take time but he would succeed.

A hand fell heavily on his left shoulder. Harry looked up at Voldemort. The man had a grin on his face.

"Lets find some muggles and torture them. I can teach you a couple of tricks if you behave."

Harry could only stare. Torture muggles? Yeah, if the damn world had any muggles. Teach him a few tricks? Voldemort teaching? Him? Tricks? As in torture tricks?

"Shouldn't we get on with the mission. Finding the man with blue clothes and all? Besides I don't want to torture muggles! I don't even have my wand with me," Harry scowled at the man. The wand wasn't really a problem. Him not having enough magic in his disposal was a problem.

"Ah yes, the mission. We can have some fun first and then find the man. A wand isn't a problem, boy. You should learn the art of wandless magic. I know you have enough power to learn it."

Harry stood up gaping at the man. "You want me to learn wandless? You want me to be stronger? I find it hard to believe. After all I'm the only one who can kill you..."

"You!?" Voldemort laughed. "Even if you were trained by myself, you wouldn't be able to kill me, Potter. You will never match me in power nor in the knowledge." Voldemort grapped Harry by his chin forcing the smaller wizard meet his gaze. "Light magic can never overpower Dark. No matter what you learn _Harry_, you can not defeat me. Not when you still think Dark as evil and Light as good. Such a narrow-minded way of looking things. You will never know true power if you think the world in black and white. There is no good and evil, only power-"

"-and those too weak to seek it." Harry finished. Voldemort had told him that when he was living as a parasite in Quirrell's head. It was something that had stuck in young Harry's head.

Voldemort brought his other hand to touch Harry's smooth cheek. Long spidery fingers carressed his soft skin, making Harry shiver. "Oh child, you still remember my words. Maybe you're not a lost case after all." Harry stared at the crimson eyes, not able to tear his gaze away. Voldemort's expression was blank but there was something shimmering in his eyes Harry couldn't place.

The grip on his chin dropped and Voldemort turned his back on Harry. "Come, we have work to do."

* * *

They arrived in a small village. To Harry it looked like a regular wizarding community. Thank Merlin Voldemort had a hood in his cloak. Harry wasn't so sure if the magical folk in this world would think that a snake-faced man was something normal. Voldemort strolled to the first person in sight. A middle aged man with a long curly hair and yellow teeth looked at Voldemort questionally.

"Is there something you want, sir?" The man asked uncertainly.

Voldemort leaned towards the man in a threatening manner so that his glowing crimson eyes could be seen under the hood. "Do you happen to know a man with a blue pointed hat and a blue cloak?"

The man took a one step backwards. Then he ran away screaming. Harry walked beside Voldemort. He gave Voldemort an indignant look. " Nice job. Just scare them all away!" Harry gazed around them. Because of the screaming man, the town people took notice of them. They gathered around them, some staring suspiciously, some frightened and some interested. Harry heard hostile whispers among some. Harry didn't see any of them holding a wand. Were they even wizards and witches? Well, their clothes did look like a wizarding clothes. But Harry couldn't be sure of their magical powers. In this world muggles could have the same fashion as magical people in his world.

Harry cleared his throat and took a look at the crowd. "We are looking for a man...he..er...wears a blue pointed hat and a blue cloak. Has anyone seen him?"

The crowd stared at him in silence. Harry felt like an idiot. The town people probably think him as one too. Then someone spoke. "Mr. Bumbore? You are looking for Mr. Beanut Bumbore?"

Harry almost let his jaw drop in amazement. He couldn't believe this! Would they actually find the man this easily? And Beanut Bumbore? What kind of parents would name their child Beanut Bumbore? Harry tried to search for the man who had answered to his question but didn't see the speaker. "Uh...I guess. He wears a pointed hat and a cloak?" Harry looked unsurely at Voldemort but the man only glanced at him saying nothing. Maybe it was better that way. It wouldn't do them good if Voldemort threatened the whole village. Something that would definitely happen if the older wizard opened his mouth.

"Yes, he certainly does wear them. Actually I have never seen him wear anything else. Does he even wash his clothes?" Someone muttered in the crowd. An old woman with a walking stick stepped forward. "Are you here to help him with the lizard problem? The village elder asked help from the Citadel 2 weeks ago. They finally sent you?" She asked hope rich in her voice.

Harry was about to answer when he heard Voldemort speak. "Yes they did. Where can we find Mr. Bumbore?" Harry glanced at Voldemort out of the corner of his eye. Good, the man could act civil. The villagers seemed to relax after Voldemort's answer. Some of them smiled friendly at them while some stared in awe. Harry couldn't tell why. A small man with a ridiculous long moustache pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "You need to go through this village. Then just follow the trail up to the hill. Beanut is in the cave. It's easy to find."

Harry thanked the villagers and together with Voldemort they stormed through the village. It took them 10 minutes to reach the end of the small town. Voldemort walked couple of steps ahead of Harry. The green-eyed-teen noticed his shoelaces open. He stopped to tie them. When Harry was ready and about to stood up, a shadow hovered over him.

"Need some help, lovely?"

Harry looked up at the source of an unfamiliar voice. Before him stood a very handsome man. Harry had never seen such beauty in a male. The man seemed ageless. He could be between 25-50. It was impossible to tell his age. The stranger had a straight black hair falling gracefully on his shoulders. His eyes were deep blue. Harry almost drowned in them. They seemed to glow eerily. His figure was thin but not painfully so and his skin smooth and tanned. The man was dressed rather plainly but Harry could tell the fabric of his clothes wasn't cheap. He had a blue cape which matched his eyes. Under it he wore a black tunic, silver belt which had metallic lion's head adorning it and black pants.

Harry stoop up. The man smiled charmingly at him. "No, thanks. I'm good." Harry wanted to look anywhere else than the man but he couldn't take his eyes off of the stranger. Something wasn't quite right with the man. Where was Voldemort when he welcomee his precence for once? The mysterious man took a step towards Harry. "Haven't seen you around here before. Where is your companion. A tall man with a black cloak?" Something flashed in the strangers eyes. Had the man followed him and Voldemort? Harry's all senses screamed him to run. Harry forced his eyes from the man taking couple of steps backwards. "He's waiting for me. I need to go."

Harry walked pass the man eyes frantically searching the surroundings. Voldemort was no where in sight. The stranger grapped his arm. "I don't think so, lovely. You are coming with me." The deep blue eyes roamed hungrily around Harry's body. The petite wizard froze his face paling. Harry tried to pull his arm away but the grip was too strong. "L-Let me go!" Harry started to struggle but the grip only tightened.

"Potter!" Harry heard familiar voice yelling angrily at him. Relief washed over him. Harry turned his head towards the trail and saw an angry Voldemort stomping his way. "Voldemort!" Harry shouted back while he glanced at the stranger. His eyes widened. There was no one beside him! The man was gone. What the hell?

"Potter, what are you still doing here?" Furious eyes flashed at Harry. The Dark Lord had a wand in his hand. Harry ignored the threatening stick and ran towards the man. "Did you see him? The man? He was there a moment ago but then he just disappeared." Harry huffed.

"What man? I saw no one. Why are you slacking behind Potter? I was halfway to the hill when I noticed you weren't following me. Care to explain?" Voldemort hissed while caressing his wand.

Harry's temper rose."How can you not notice I'm not behind you!? It's your own fault!" The wand was quickly pointed between Harry's eyes. "Do you want to suffer or will you keep your voice down?" Harry could see red light on the tip of the wand. Probably one painful crucio coming his way if he couldn't "_keep his voice down_".

"Listen," Harry began as he tried to ignore the wand between his eyes, " I stopped to tie my shoelaces when a man suddenly appeared in front of me. He...he grapped my arm and told me to go with him but then you came here and he disappeared."

Voldemort pocketed his wand and gripped Harry by his collar. Pulling him close to his face. "Did he now, Potter? Pray tell, what would have you done if I hadn't showed? Followed him like a lost little kitten you are? " Voldemort hissed.

"I-I...What?! No! I tried to struggle but he was too strong."

"Struggled? Are you a wizard or not?" Voldemort hissed into Harry's ear.

"Yes...but I have no wand." Harry lowered his head in shame. Yes, the stranger had been scary but he shouldn't have frozen like that. He had encountered far more dangerous situation than some man grapping him. He knew he could have reached to his core and slam the man away from him using his magic. But he didn't. Voldemort was right. As a wizard he should have used his magic and not incapacitate like a helpless muggle boy.

Voldemort released him only to grap Harry by his wrist. He started to walk towards the hill, dragging Harry behind him. "You will not disappear from my sight anymore. I can't have you kidnapped or die on our missions. I will not be trapped into the house nor into this world." He glared at Harry. Harry flushed in embarrasment. Voldemort was treating him like a child or worse, like a weakling. Well, Harry was no child nor weak. He would prove it to Voldemort.

* * *

They entered the cave. There were torches flowing in the air lightening up the place. Harry and Voldemort walked deeper until they saw a figure crouching around a bonfire. "Come in, come in." They heard a jolly voice. They technically were already in so they walked closer to the man. The man stood up straightening his blue cloak. When Harry saw Beanut Bumbore his first thought was an animated Disney movie he once watched secretly when his relatives where visiting their friends.

Mr. Bumbore resembled remarkable Merlin in _The Sword in the Stone. _He had round glasses, long white beard, a very simple blue cloak and a blue pointed hat. In his right hand he held a long wooden staff.

"Finally you are here! I thought Citadel will never hear our plea." Bumbore said merrily. "Come now boys. Come closer. Let me take a look at the lizard killers." Neither of them stepped forward so Bumbore walked to them. The old man was scrutinizing Harry as Voldemort spoke. "So, you have a some kind of lizard problem?"

"Yes, yes," the old man said hastily as he circled around very uncomfortable Harry, "nasty lizards they are! They live in big herds, together stealing our villagers foodsupplies, attacking little children, killing all the domestic animals. They need to be exterminated I say!" The man huffed before continuing. "Isn't he awfully scrawny for a lizard killer?" Bumbore was suspicious. He was poking Harry in the rips. The teen hissed in pain when the man poked one of his bruises on his left side. Harry was about to snarl at the man but he was silenced by Voldemort. "Yes he is. You see we lizard killers, have a new strategy. Lure and kill. He's used as a bait. Works like a charm." Harry glared at Voldemort. Oh, he would not be a bait!

Bumbore was enthralled. "Fascinating!"

So, the villagers were having problems with lizards? How many lizards were needed in succeful attack against children? Harry thought hundreds of little Gecko lizards mauling children with they teeth. This mission must be some kind of a joke. It had to. Killer lizars...Harry chuckled inwardly.

Bumbore locked his gaze with Voldemort. "And what about you young man?" Harry snorted. Voldermort young? Hah! The man was at least over 60. Voldemort drew his wand so fast that if Harry didn't know the man had kept it in his pocket he would have thought the wand had been in his hand the whole time. The Slytherin heir pointed his wand at the barmy old man. "Don't even think of getting closer you old fool. Now tell us were the lizards are and we will get the job done."

Bumbore froze, his eyes trailing Voldemort's wand. "Is that what the staffs look like in Citadel nowadays!? I must say, very well invented! Very well indeed. It must be much more easier to carry and hide than this old staff of mine," He gestured the brown staff in his clutches. Voldemort's eye twitched. The Dark Lord was about to crucio the old man. Harry had to do something. He quickly ran to the old man. "Uh yeah...it's the newest inventation of Citadel, maybe you should buy one in the future? Anyway, where are the lizards? We have many jobs to do today so we don't want to waste time." Harry fake smiled.

"Oh yes the lizard! The faster we are rid of them the better! Just go back of the cave, there is an entrance to the woods and then-" he abruptly stopped and began sniffing the air. Harry looked at the crazy old man. What the hell was he doing now? Harry glanced at Voldemort but he was observing some weird objects on the other side of the cave. "Can you smell that?" Bumbore came closer to Harry sniffing the air around him. "N-no..."Harry was baffled. Suddenly the old man was all over him. Sniffing Harry's hair, his skin, his clothes.

"What the hell?? Get off me!!"

A blue light hit the man throwing him against the opposite cave wall. Voldemort walked in front of the smaller wizard, his wand still pointing at Bumbore on the ground. "Do that again, and the next time you will be dead." To say Harry was shocked was an understatement. Was Voldemort defending him? He stared the back of the Dark Lord, his mouth agape.

The old man looked startled for a second. He started mumbling his eyes wide . "I-I-I'm terribly sorry young man. I have no idea what came over me. He just...well he smells like vanilla. I don't know why I find it so intriguing..." Then his gaze glazed over the ceiling.

Harry glanced at Bumbore behind Voldemort. "That was weird..."Harry sniffed himself. "I don't smell like vanilla." Then he sighed."We still need to ask him were the lizards are." Harry looked warily at the Dark Lord.

Voldemort grapped Harry's wrist again and yanked the smaller wizards with him. "We know they are somewhere in the woods. We will find them on our own."

* * *

It didn't take long to reach the woods. The sun was still shining and it would be up for the next three ours at least. Harry stared at Voldemort's back, trying to figure out the man. Why did he defend him in the cave? Well, it certainly wasn't out of his good heart. Maybe he thought the old man tried to kill Harry? Yeah, that must be it...there couldn't be any other explanation, could there? Harry wanted to hear the answer from Voldemort but he was afraid to ask. Some Gryffindor he was.

They walked for ten minutes in silence until Harry opened his mouth.

"I hope you were kidding in the cave. I _won't_ be used as a bait." Harry pouted while kicking little rocks as he walked behind Voldemort. No matter if the lizards were harmless little Geckos. Now that he thought about it they really couldn't be Gecko lizards. They had to be something more dangerous if they were capable of killing domestical animals...And if they weren't, then there had to be hundreds of them in a one herd.

"If you know how to cast a wandless killing curse then fine by me." Voldemort glanced over his shoulder at Harry. The green-eyed-wizard crossed his arms in annoyance. "Fine." They walked for half an hour in silence. Harry almost bumped into Voldemort when the man abruptly halted. Something was moving among the bushes on their left. "Do you think it's one of-" Harry's whispering was interrupted by a large lizard who jumped at them.

"Avada Kedavra."

The big lizard hit the ground dead. Harry walked over it. "Woah, I didn't know they were this big! It's huge. Like a huge dog. Or more like a small dinosaur!" Harry took a stick he saw on the ground. He lifted the lizard's upper lip with the stick so he could see into his mouth. "Lucky us. This thing has a nice sharp teeth." It could easily shred Harry into pieces. The smaller wizard turned to Voldemort. "If this one was here, there must be more." Harry thought what the crazy old man had said about lizards living in herds.

Voldemort smirked at him. "Well then little Harry, you better go there and lure the lizards in. I will be here shotting killing curses."

Harry paled. He took a quick glance at the bushes. Behind them there was a field surrounded by big rocks. "I need to go there? I have nothing to defend myself with!" Harry wasn't very found of the idea of walking in the middle of a big mutant lizard herd. He had his core magic but because of the binding he couldn't use the magic as he wanted. Besides he would probably tire soon enough even if he could reach to his core, the bad side effects of the core magic.

Voldemort transfigured the stick in Harry's hand into a sword. "Better?"

"Uh, yes. Thanks." Harry didn't really want to thank the man. It was his fault he had to be a bait. Besides he had a sword now. He could kill lizards as efficiently as Voldemort with his wand. Harry sighed as he walked through the bushes and toward the empty green field. He heard something. In front of him. Behind that big rock. If he was a bait then it was his job to lure the lizards out from their hideouts. Harry could hear his loud and fast heartbeating. He gulped, sweat appearing on his forehead. What was he so afraid of? He had battled against a basilisk and a dragon. Nothing should be scarier or more dangerous than those two. _Expect these mutant lizard_, a voice said in his head, _big dangerous lizards with sharp teeth. Hundreds of them!_

No, no, no! That was insane, there couldn't be hundreds of lizards in this small field. A loud screech came behind Harry. He turned around slowly. A bigger lizard than the first one they encountered, was creeping towards him. It really was like a small dinosaur. The lizard was bipedal, it's other limps, hands? claws? Harry wasn't sure what to call them, were held erect beneath it's upper body. Harry watched as a green light hit the lizard.

"What are you standing there, Potter? You need to lure them out!" Harry glared angrily at Voldemort's direction. He couldn't see the man though. He was probably hiding somewhere in the bushes. Harry straightened his leather vest, took a better hold of the sword and started running. He hit the stones with the sword, trying to make as much noise as possible. Harry stopped. Lizards. Lots of them. Coming from every direction. They slowly surrounded him. Harry watched his sword ready how the lizards growled at him, showing their deadly sharp teeth. Harry counted them. There were twenty lizards. Twenty raving mad lizards. And he, Harry, was their only pray.

"Voldemort!" Harry yelled. Why wasn't the man doing anything? The lizards were ready to attack him. Any minute now they would all jump at him and tear him limb by limb. Harry took a deep breath. Then the attack came. He was about to slash the lizard nearest at him when strong arms wrapped around his waist. Harry yelped in surprise closing momentarily his eyes. He heard a loud explosion. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't in the middle of angry lizard herd anymore. He was leaning firmly against Voldemort's chest his both hands still wrapped around Harry's torso. They were standing in the bushes. The Dark Lord released him. Harry stumbled forward as he gaped at the field. There were no lizards. Only a large hole in the middle of the field. In the exact same spot Harry had stood just half a minute ago.

"What did you do?" Harry asked baffled.

"Blasted the ground under them. All dead." Voldemort walked to the pit Harry trailing behind him. Harry took a peek at the pit. It was full of body parts, guts and blood. "Eww, that's nasty."

Voldemort only smiled smugly at Harry. "Isn't it?" Harry rolled his eyes. The damn Dark Lord was proud of the grotesque sight. "How did you do it?" Harry frowned. He hadn't seen or felt any kind of magic.

"When the lizards were advancing at you I send runes around the herd. Then I apparated to get you and blew up the runes."

"You can blow up runes?"

"Not any kind of runes. You need to make runes that contain explosive magic. Then you join them with strings of magic. You can then blow them up. It's like a muggle explosive device with a remote control. My invention of course." The man smirked satisfied. When he noticed Harry looking at him something closing to awestruck, the smirk on his face widened.

Harry looked hurriedly away from Voldemort. The man was powerful, that he knew already but he hadn't realized how fucking brilliant he was. How many spells Dumbledore had invented? Harry couldn't rememeber...He had lot to learn if he ever dreamed of defeating the Dark Lord.

* * *

Beanut Bumbore was sitting around the bonfire again. Harry made sure to stay away from the old man.

"You are back! And in one piece no less." Bombore retorted happily. Voldemort had unreadable mask on his face. "Your little lizard problem is no more."

The old man began to jump from joy as he clapped his hands. Harry was rather amazed that the old man was still able to jump in the air without straining his muscles. "Absolutely wonderful news! Come, I have something for you." Voldemort showed a hint of curisioty as Bombore led him and Harry to a smaller cave. Harry looked around it. It was empty expect for a money bag, a worn out cloak, a wooden paddle and a journal. "You can choose what ever you want as a reward and a small token of my gratitude."

All the stuff were rather useless except for the money bag. Harry grapped it and looked inside it. He had never seen coins like that. The petite wizard sighed. The money wouldn't be any use either. Unless he wanted to go shopping in this world before they returned to the Red House. Harry doubted Voldemort would let him, he would probably force him straight back into the house. Nevertheless Harry took the money bag just in case. He turned to Voldemort. The man was studying the journal until he tossed it to the corner. He then took the paddle. "I take this." He informed the barmy old man.

"What are you going to do with that?" Harry grimaced.

Voldemort turned to look at Harry. "Oh, there is something I would _love_ to use this," he said suggestively while smiling lecherously.

Bumbore started to giggle. "Kinky!"

Harry paled.

* * *

**A/N:** Phew, finally ready. I wasn't really happy with this chapter at first so I re-wrote it twice. Then I edited it three times. For those who are waiting for slash, I need to say it won't start anytime soon. There will be pre-slash though. I just find it hard to believe that Harry and Voldemort would suddenly be all over each other. They are enemies after all. So their relationship will grow slowly. Well, maybe I will speed up the things a little. Maybe.

Harry smelling like vanilla scene: Believe it or not but it wasn't random. It actually has a meaning. It will come up later in the story XD

_Next time:_ Voldemort and the paddle *gigles* Some answers of their kidnapper and a new mission.

Thanks for the reviews! Until next time.....


	5. Vigera Lacerta

**5. Vigera-Lacerta**

The walk back to the house was silent. But as they got closer, Harry feared that the door to the Red House had disappeared while they had been gone – that he would be forever stuck in this unfamiliar world with Voldemort. Therefore he was incredibly relieved to see the brown door still intact in the middle of the meadow.

As Voldemort stepped up to the door, Harry spoke. "You know, I don't really fancy these clothes or Dudley's old rags."

Harry glanced at the silent man in front of him. Voldemort didn't say anything so he continued, "I got the money, and since we don't really have to leave yet...I'm going to go do a little shopping. You can go ahead." Harry turned around, his mind already drifting toward the set of robes he had seen displayed in the village's _Everyday Costume_.

He had taken only two steps when he was yanked back by his collar. "I don't think so, Potter. We are going in _now_."

Harry angrily shoved the hand away, sniping, "Who the hell gave you the right to order me around? I can do whatever I want, and right now I want to get new clothes!"

To his surprise Voldemort didn't curse him or verbally castrate him.

It was something worse.

The Dark Lord was smiling, the malicious edge of it cutting. With a swish of a wand the shrunk paddle was re-sized and spun playfully by Voldemort's spidery fingers. Harry shuddered and eyed the two suspiciously.

Voldemort studied the paddle intently spinning it this way and that, he sighed dramatically and asked, "Why do you always have to do everything the hard way?" He stared at Harry. "Are you coming with me or do I have to force you?"

The young Gryffindor crossed his arms defiantly. "I'm not afraid of you. Show off your damn paddle all you want, I'm still going shopping." Did Voldemort really think he would be scared of that stupid thing?

Voldemort opened the portal. "Have it your way then."

Harry took another step back, anticipating a hit or something like that by Voldemort and his paddle. But instead the Dark Lord simply flicked his wand and an invisible force grabbed Harry and threw him through the portal.

He landed painfully on his knees. He was still on the ground when he heard Voldemort slam the door shut. The house began to shake violently. The Red House had left the Lizard World.

Harry tried to keep his balance, he didn't want to hit his face to the floor. When the shaking stopped the green-eyed teen looked back and glared at the smug man standing there. This was ridiculous, Voldemort had no right to push or order him around like that!

Harry stood upright as quickly as he could. "There is one thing I need to make clear," Harry's voice was shaking with anger.

"Feeling like demanding something, hmm? I would love to hear about it. Let us adjourn to the living room." Voldemort smiled as he gestured the room next to the hall. Harry regarded him incredulously before stomping after him. _What is Voldemort playing at? Why is he suddenly so civil? _

Harry took a seat at the couch as he continued musing. _And what's with the creepy smile?_ He glanced at the paddle in Voldemort's hand. He was definitely up to something. No matter, Harry would make clear the man couldn't boss him around anymore.

"I don't care if you are a Dark Lord, I don't care if you're used to order your minions around, or that you are magically or physically stronger than I am. Nope, I don't care at all!" Harry stood up heatedly. "No matter what you are, what you can do, you better start show some respect! You have no right to tell me what to do! You have no right to drag me around like some mangy mutt! And stop calling me a child. I. AM. NOT. A. CHILD!" Harry was out of breath. He was sure his face was red from all the yelling.

Voldemort took a step toward Harry. "Do you know what they used to do in the old times?" Bemused, Harry silently stared at Voldemort.

"They used to punish disobedient children." The Dark Lord showed the paddle in his hand. "Spanking was very efficient method of "educating" undisciplined children. I think it's time for you to learn some manners. Pants down Potter."

Harry goggled at Voldemort, his mouth hanging wide open. He was speechless. He wasn't sure which one shocked him more. The fact that Voldemort had ignored everything he had just yelled at the man or the fact that he was about to be spanked....wait..._spanked_? What had Voldemort said?

_Pants _down Potter.

Pants _down_ Potter.

_Pants down Potter_.

He couldn't get the words out of his mind. They were repeating themselves in his mind like a broken record.

"Huh? I-No-I-..._what_!?" Harry finally managed to stutter out.

Amusement flickered in Voldemort's crimson eyes. "Wasn't I clear enough? Pants down. Now." He didn't wait for an answer. He scooped Harry up easily with his arms. With the stunned teen in his clutches, Voldemort stormed to the bedroom where he tossed Harry on the bed. When Harry had worked pass the horror Voldemort had evoked in him with his words and actions, the teen rolled on his back and sat up.

"Didn't you listen to a single word I said?" Harry asked heatedly. He tried to get up but Voldemort pushed him back on the bed.

"I did. You should already know by now Harry, that I'm your superior in every way. That is reason enough to order you around. On your stomach!"

There was no way in _hell _Harry would listen to this psychopath. He tried to kick Voldemort as the man hovered over him. The Dark Lord took a hold of Harry's hair while his other hand gripped him painfully on his hip. He easily rolled Harry on his stomach. All the while Harry screamed and struggled in vain.

When Harry was finally on his stomach, Voldemort grabbed his legs and pulled him towards himself so that Harry's upper body was still on the bed as his legs were hanging against the edge of the bed. Voldemort hooked his fingers into Harry's pants and pulled them down.

Harry struggled all he could, panic rising inside him. "What the fuck are you doing?! You fucking pervert! Let me go!" He screamed. There was a loud thud.

The green-eyed teen's eyes widened and he grunted in pain. The fucking bastard had actually hit him with the damned paddle!

Then came another smack. Harry's fists curled around bedspread. Then there was another smack and another. There were 10 hits altogether. Harry took all the pain silently. The only positive thing about spanking was it wasn't as painful as the Cruciatus.

Voldemort chuckled. Harry turned his watery gaze at the Dark Lord. He narrowed his eyes when crimson met green.

Voldemort smirked smugly. "You can pull your pants up now. Or do you need some help with that?" Harry turned his eyes away in humiliation and embarrassment. He got up from the bed and quickly hunched over for his pants and pulled them up. He then turned to meet a very content looking Voldemort.

"Has anyone ever said you are mentally deranged? You are nothing but an old power hungry pervert!" Harry was yelling again. He was so closely at punching the man. He knew yelling wasn't the best idea at this point but he couldn't help himself. The snake-faced bastard just made him so furious.

Voldemort wasn't offended at all. "Ah, the fire never dies in you, does it Harry? No matter what I do, you always stand up, ready for another round. I like that about you."

Harry grimaced. "I don't care about your opinion, I only want you to stop! I don't need discipline! Just leave me alone!" Then he stomped from the bedroom. There was no point in arguing with the man, everything Harry said went through deaf ears.

Voldemort followed him into the living room silently watching Harry snuggling into his bed before taking a seat on the couch.

"Why are you here? You have your own room, so use it," the smaller wizard spat angrily. He wrapped the blanket around him as he gazed at Voldemort. The older wizard had a pensive expression on his face.

"Didn't you say you wanted me to respect you, child?"

Harry glared. "Yes, and I also wanted you to stop calling me a child."

"Why would I ever do that? You are a one after all." Voldemort was silent for a moment as he observed Harry's expression. "About respect," the Dark Lord started slowly, "it's not something you can demand Harry, it's something you earn."

"Let me guess, I haven't earned your respect?" Harry inquired bitterly.

"Correct," Voldemort smirked.

Harry huffed, annoyed. "I'm the only one you haven't managed to kill, I think that is enough to earn your respect." And according to the prophesy, he was supposed to be Voldemort's equal. Harry didn't voice his last thought. He didn't want Voldemort to know anything more about the prophesy.

Voldemort lost his smirk. He slowly stood up in a threatening manner. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he hissed with barely restrained rage, "Your survival has been nothing but luck! Right now, I could easily break your neck, boy. You would be dead in a minute. But as you can see, I can not kill you because of the house's magic," Voldemort sneered and left very indignant Harry behind.

* * *

Three boring days had passed by after their first task. Harry had hoped for a new mission but all he got was an equally frustrated and irritated Voldemort.

For the majority of the time, Harry simply stayed in his tiny bed sulking and brooding over the complete indignity of Voldemort spanking him. It usually transformed into annoyed anger when he remembered that he hadn't been able to get new clothes or any useful knick-knacks he could have bought in the Lizard World. It didn't help that the day of the spanking Harry had changed back into Dudley's old rags, storing the leather outfit into his wardrobe, only to see that it had disappeared the next day. Now he was stuck with the hand-me-downs until the next mission that would come who-knows-when.

Harry had been very grumpy on that day. His bad mood had increased over the fact that Voldemort continued to force him to make their breakfast and lunch. For a little revenge Harry made pea soup everyday.

Because Voldemort had begun to demand to eat together Harry hadn't had a chance to make something else for himself so he had to settle for the soup too. The soup hadn't been so bad at the start, but after eating it for all the three meals for three days, he quickly missed chewing and it lost any of its tolerable taste.

But seeing Voldemort eating the food he obviously detested had kept the teen wizard going with revenge a la soup.

Harry was again stirring the pea soup when the kitchen door opened.

"It's not ready." He didn't take his eyes off the soup.

Voldemort took a peek in the pot. "This again?" His narrowed eyes pierced Harry.

The teen still didn't take his eyes from the soup. "Don't like it? Fine. You can drink water then. This is all we've got."

Voldemort sneered at him and stomped to the cupboard. He swung it open. Harry had to squash down a cackle when there was an angry grunt.

"You've been lying to me, you brat!"

Harry nonchalantly glanced at the open cupboard. He could immediately see that there was bacon, eggs, loaves of bread, sliced ham and turkey, pickles, canned jam, crackers and pasta. Harry pretended to look surprised.

"Oh, that's odd. They weren't there before." Harry turned to look at the soup again. He smirked. Voldemort would go rampage any minute now. Harry would probably get hurt but it was worth it.

Voldemort slammed the cupboard shut, "Do you think me a fool, Potter?"

Harry peered at Voldemort through his fringe. Voldemort loomed over him, one of his crimson eyes twitching. Harry stopped stirring. He quickly ensured the both doors were open in the kitchen. He would need an escape route after he was done with Voldemort.

"Hmm, let me see...You never went to check our food supplies," Harry paused for a moment then he laughed. "The cupboard has been full from the day one, but I intentionally made soup everyday. Really, you should have seen yourself, stuffing this," Harry scooped the soup, showing the green soup to Voldemort, "every single day. Yup, you are definitely a fool."

That said, Harry ran. He stormed through the living room into the hall, and finally locked himself into the bathroom. Harry let out a breath and sat down on the closed toilet seat.

All was well. He had successfully escaped the madman into his safe haven. Harry heard Voldemort roar in anger as he stomped to his bedroom. "Potter! You will pay!" There were loud thumping noises in the bedroom. Harry smirked.

"Where is it!? WHERE IS MY PADDLE?! POTTER! What have you done?!"

Harry was surprised Voldemort hadn't realized the paddle had been missing when he woke up. The green-eyed wizard muffled his snicker with his hand. It had been so easy to sneak in and steal the paddle from the nightstand while Voldemort slept. Harry had taken it and hid it into his blanket's duvet cover. It would probably take quite a while for Voldemort to find it.

Harry heard Voldemort leave the bedroom and walked to the front of the bathroom door.

"You must think you're being clever, Potter. If you tell me where you've hidden the paddle, I will go easy on you when you get you," the Dark Lord hissed threateningly.

Harry snorted. "Yeah right. Why don't you go find your paddle on your own? You are wasting your time standing there." The door rattled with a kick, then Voldemort was gone.

* * *

Harry had no idea how long he had been hiding in the bathroom, but it felt like hours. He had fallen asleep in the bathtub at one point but was woken up by loud noises. Voldemort was rampaging in the living room.

Harry's stomach growled. Damn, he was hungry. He drank water from the tap, trying to fill his empty stomach.

Voldemort was still angry, which meant he hadn't found the paddle yet. Harry sighed. He would probably have to spend the night here. Annoying the hell out of Voldemort didn't feel like a great idea anymore. Creating a raging Dark Lord wasn't very brilliant idea. Actually, if he thought about it, Harry hadn't really thought his plan through either.

He was safe for now, but he would have to come out of the room sometime soon. While he could last a couple days without food, he'd rather not. And when he left his haven Voldemort would be waiting for him...Well, wouldn't it be better to get it over with? Harry started when something banged against the bathroom door then follow by a senseless roar of anger. _...A few more hours won't hurt._

Harry listened to the ferocious Dark Lord for a while until he decided to take a bath. Harry purred in delight as he positioned himself more comfortably. The water was hot and relaxing. In no time Harry's eye lids began to droop.

Harry woke up to a stinging nose full of water. In a panic filled moment he snapped his eyes open to a blurry mess as he tried to breath and ease his suddenly burning lungs, only getting more water. He tried to lift his head but someone was holding him down. Harry began to thrash about. He needed air! Black dots shot through his vision, and Harry was sure he was about to pass out, when he was abruptly lifted from the bathtub.

The cold air stung him as Harry hit the cold tiled floor. He gasped for air but it only made him cough, the water in his lungs prohibiting him. Water splashed the floor as he gagged, trying to get rid of the water in him. His eyes watered and his lungs were burning as he continued to gag.

Soon all the water was out of his lungs but he still couldn't breath properly. He tried to take all the air he could, but it only made his breath shallow and fast. Harry felt someone crouch beside him and something was lowered on his lower body. It was warm and fluffy. _A towel. _A cold hand began to stroke soothing circles on his bare back.

Harry's breath slowed and he could take more air to his lungs. Harry opened his eyes; he hadn't even realized he had closed them at some point. He blearily stared at the white floor.

He was so tired. He wished he could rest. There was a small voice in his mind, warning him not to give into darkness. But Harry didn't listen. He closed his eyes and was fast asleep.

* * *

Harry woke up to the heavenly smell of food. Well, anything would smell like heaven after eating peasoup for four days.

Harry sat up, gingerly leaning his back on a huge pillow. As he look around through blurry eyes, he could see that the room and, to his extreme irritation, the large and comfortable bed he lay on was Voldemort's.

The door to the kitchen was open so with squinted eyes, he tried to see who the black figure standing near the stove was. _Is that...____Voldemort__? Voldemort making lunch?_ Now that was a sight Harry thought he would never see.

He must have made some sort of sound, because Voldemort turned around. They stared at each other for a moment.

"Awake, I see," the Dark Lord said.

Harry remained silent.

He watched as Voldemort poured the contents of the pan into a bowl. And with shock Harry watched as the Dark Lord placed the bowl and a glass of water on a tray, only to bring it toward him. Harry stared with wide eyes as he put it on the nightstand next to the bed.

"You made lunch?" he managed to ask.

"Indeed I did, now eat up." Voldemort stood beside the bed, a mask of indifference on his face.

Harry's eyes went from the Dark Lord to the soup. "You made this for me?" He was beyond shocked. The soup looked delicious, it smelled delicious, and it was sure to taste delicious. But what was the reason for this? Why would Voldemort cook for him? There was only one possible answer.

The petite wizard narrowed his eyes as he glared at Voldemort with suspicion. "You've put something in it. Poison or something."

Voldemort sighed with annoyance, "Why would I do that? I _can_ _not_ kill you. I am more likely to hurt you, but I would use something more..._physical_ than poison, something you've surely noticed. More importantly, there is no poison in the house." When Harry continued to glare at him, Voldemort scowled. "It's just food, Potter. Eat it."

Harry still didn't touch the food and tried to ignore how hungry he was. There had to be something in it. Maybe needles? Or little stones. Maybe Voldemort wanted him to break his teeth or something. Harry shifted a little. It was cold in the room, even under the sheets. He didn't have any clothes- Harry gasped. _He didn't have any clothes_! He was naked! He nervously moved his leg a little so that he could see his bare limb sticking out under the blanket. Except it wasn't bare. He had Dudlye's old loose pants on. Harry sighed in relief. He wasn't naked after all.

Now that he thought about it, his last recollection was of the bathroom floor. He had sprawled there, naked and gasping for air to his burning lungs. Had Voldemort carried him to the bedroom? Harry winced at the thought. The small teen pulled the blanket to cover his bare chest as he turned his eyes at the older wizard.

"What happened? I remember taking a bath, I fell asleep and then something was trying to drown me...I-" Harry stopped as he gazed Voldemort in horror. He moved further away from him.

"It was you! You tried to kill me. _Again_!"

Voldemort nonchalantly sat on the edge of the bed. "You brought that on yourself," he stated simply. "You should have known better than irritate me. Do you have any thoughts of self preservation rattling in that empty mind of yours, child?"

"If I annoyed you so much that you were ready to _kill _me," Harry glared, "then what is this?" Harry gestured the soup in the nightstand. "That's pretty nice gesture, you know. And you are anything but nice." Yup, Harry was undoubtedly suspicious of Voldemort's motives. There had to be something behind this odd show of pleasant behavior. "Why am I lying on _your_ bed? You have never allowed me to enter to this room..." Harry turned his eyes away his face heating a little. "Did you dress me too?"

Voldemort chuckled at the teens reddening blush. "Trust me child, there's nothing I haven't seen before. Would you have rather woken up without clothes?" Voldemort heard Harry mumbling something under his breath.

"What was that?"

"No."

"That's what I thought." Voldemort eyed the beautiful teen with amusement.

"You still didn't answer why you are being so...nice," Harry grimaced at the word. Seriously, Voldemort and "nice" just didn't belong in the same sentence.

The Dark Lord slid closer to Harry and delicately sniffed the air around the teen, making Harry ogle at the man like he was insane...uh...insaner.

"The old man was right. You do smell like vanilla," Voldemort's lips curled slyly. "I should have noticed it earlier." His gaze went from Harry's body to his face as he spoke. "Small, petite frame, pretty face, scent of a vanilla. I know what you are Potter."

Harry's mouth went agape. "What do you mean?" Then he frowned. "Is that the reason for your sudden change of behavior?"

"What? Can't I be pleasant once in a while?" When the Dark Lord saw the teen's incredulous look he chuckled. "You should not analyze my behavior Harry. The more important fact is what you know about yourself." Voldemort was very pleased when the teen stared at him with bemusement. "I know what you are, Harry," the Dark Lord repeated, "do you?"

Harry frowned again. What did Voldemort mean? He was something...did this mean he wasn't a wizard? He quickly disregarded the thought. Of course he was a wizard, he could do magic. Maybe he had a creature blood in him? But then, what kind of creature was he? If he had creature blood, it meant he would have been inherited it from one of his parents. Why had nobody told him before? Shouldn't Dumbledore have, or Sirius? Or maybe Voldemort was lying? Yeah, the bastard was most definitely lying.

"You are lying. You are just trying to make me confused."

"So fast to distrust," Voldemort tsked.

"Why should I trust a man who has been trying to kill me? For five years in a row no less?"

"Point taken," Voldemort chuckled. "However, I'm not lying about this, Harry. You will either find out the truth yourself at some point, which knowing you, will take more time than necessary-" Harry glared at the man "-or I can tell you what you are."

He was immediately suspicious. Voldemort wasn't Slytherin's heir for nothing. "Just like that?"

Voldemort didn't say anything, only continuing to smirk smugly.

Harry grit his teeth. "You want something. Well, what is it?" He didn't really want to bargain with the man but his curiosity won over his wariness.

The snake-faced man reached down, taking out something from under the bed. Harry's eyes widened a bit when he saw the paddle. He gulped.

"You found it."

Voldemort gave a dark laugh as he eyed the paddle, then Harry. "Oh, I did. I must admit it took me quite a while to go and search your bedding. But it wasn't really an ingenious hiding place."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and huffed, "Where would you have hidden it then? There aren't any dark corners or small cracks you can put it in. All the wardrobes and cupboards were out of question." Harry would have wanted to say more but it was rather pointless and childish to rant about hiding places to Voldemort.

The teen sighed. He had become to hate the paddle. When he had thought he could finally be rid of damned thing, Voldemort went and found it! The teen glared at the paddle as Voldemort caressed it. "If you love your damn paddle so much, then why don't you go and marry it?"

Why was Voldemort so enthralled with the paddle anyway? Did he have a paddle fetish or something? Maybe it wasn't about the paddle itself, maybe it was what Voldemort could do with the paddle. To who? Harry shuddered. To the other occupant in the house.

Voldemort raised his non-existent eyebrows. "You can't marry inanimate objects, Harry. Hasn't anyone taught you that?"

The smaller male sent Voldemort a deadpan glare. "No unfortunately, some psycho maniac killed my parents." Voldemort only grinned at that which made Harry fume.

After restraining much of his anger Harry opened his mouth."So, what do you want?"

Voldemort traced his finger over the surface of the paddle. "It's rather boring here, Harry. I will tell you what you are if you play with me."

Harry cocked his head. "Play? Like how? I don't want to-" He stopped as the realization hit him. Harry stood up heatedly, jumping off the bed and stomping over to the door. "I can't believe this! You want to spank me again!? Sorry," he drawled, sarcasm lacing his voice," but I'm not a masochist."

Voldemort stood, walking over to Harry with a malicious grin on his face. It was a truly frightening sight. "It doesn't have to hurt. I can make it very _pleasurable_." Harry could feel the house purring in delight at Voldemort's words. The teen's eyes widened comically while Voldemort's grin grew even wider.

"See, Harry? Even the house agrees."

Harry practically threw himself out of the room. After yelling a loud "no" he slammed the door shut in Voldemort's face. Harry stomped angrily to his little alcove, his face red. He simply couldn't believe it! The house was siding with Voldemort! And over a sick fantasy at that! First, it didn't allow them to kill each other (Harry ignored the quiet voice in the back of his mind that was thankful that Voldemort wasn't able to kill him), and now it was taking Voldemort's side for his less than honorable suggestion!

"Fucking traitor," he hissed venomously at the house. He could feel an amused hum trailing through the walls.

Harry flopped down on his bed. Thank Merlin Voldemort didn't follow him into the living room. Finally he could get some time alone. The man was crazy but Harry was sure the paddle made him more off his rocker than usual. The damned thing probably gave Voldemort all his ridiculous ideas and less honorable thoughts, thoughts that didn't involve killing and torture – Voldemort was fine on his own with that kind of stuff.

It had to end. Voldemort would be furious of course but Harry had decided. What ever it took, he would steal the paddle again, and either destroy or hide it in the next world they visited.

* * *

The next morning Harry went straight to his wardrobe with a mission.

"I need a book that tells me what I am." Nothing happened. Harry hummed thoughtfully. _Maybe I need to be more specific? _But he had no idea what he was. According to Voldemort his only clues were "pretty face, small body and the scent of vanilla".

He had never heard of any creature that fit into those descriptions. He wasn't even sure if he had creature blood in him, he might be something else. Should he even trust Voldemort's word? Harry hadn't excluded the possibility that Voldemort had only wanted to confuse him or make fun of his ignorance.

But on the other hand, why not believe? If it turned out to be only a joke - although his opinion of Voldemort was that the man wasn't one to make jokes- he should look at the positive side. During his research, he would gain knowledge of creatures or anything else he was going end up looking through. It would be a jump start on his NEWTs. Hermione would surely be proud.

So, what should he ask from the wardrobe? What about a book of creatures? That sounded like a good start.

"I need a book that specifies any kind of creature blood that is possible to be in a wizard?" Would that do the trick?

THUD.

Harry smiled triumphantly. He opened the door and took out the very thick and aged book from the wardrobe. The cover read, '_Do you have creature blood in you? Read and find out'. _Harry's smile grew. This would be useful.

"Thanks, house," Harry said, his attention in the moldy green book. He padded to the dining table and began his research.

Harry gulped when he saw the table of contents of the book. There were over a hundred different creatures! It would take days to go through all of them! There were only three he recognized immediately; Veela, Vampires, Werewolves.

Well, that hardly narrowed down his search at all. He knew he couldn't be a vampire, he had no thirst for blood, he could be out in sunlight and he didn't have noticeable fangs. He wasn't a werewolf either. How about a bit of Veela blood then?

Harry thought of Fleur Delacour, the quarter veela. He didn't see any similarities between him and her so he doubted he had veela blood in him either. Besides, veela didn't have any specific scent, right? Harry wasn't quite sure, so he checked. Page 256 "_Veela_". Nothing about a scent. Next creature please.

For three hours he had gone through the most peculiar creatures of the wizarding world. Despite that, nothing fit Voldemort's description. He still had about half of the creatures left. Harry rubbed his stinging eyes. They always started stinging when he didn't have his glasses.

The green-eyed wizard sighed and he decided to take a break. His stomach was grumbling and he was thirsty. Harry was rather surprised that Voldemort hadn't left his room yet, even though much time had passed. How long was the man going to sleep? Not that he was missed or anything, Harry was just curious.

After a plate of scrambled eggs (and studiously ignoring the pot of beef stew Voldemort had made), Harry was submerged back into his research. Another fruitless hour passed until something finally caught his eye.

"_Vigera-Lacerta,_" Harry read the headline.

"_They are known to have a human like appearance, much like most of the creatures found in this book. They possess a snake like skin that can switch colors (they can easily make their skin resemble the human skin) and long pointed ears, and extended reptilian tails. Their eyes are known to usually be forest green. The most interesting part of the Vigera-Lacerta is that they collectively have similar scents. The majority of these ancient creatures possess either the scent of vanilla or lilac; the differences being only in strength and any additional scents. The Vigera-Lacerta are also known for their incredible ability to climb flat surfaces. To make this type of climbing possible, the creatures have thousands of small plungers on the flat of their hands and feet..."_

It continued on with a long description of their habitat, eating habits, etc. Harry simply skimmed over the majority of the information until he found what he was looking for.

"_Vigera-Lacerta are known to be able to mate with humans, both wizarding and muggle. A hybrid of Vigera-Lacerta, known as a Half-Lacerta, can be recognized by the intense green eye color, small size, and subtle scent of lilac (oddly enough, vanilla isn't unheard of, but is considered rare). They also have pointed ears and a light gray skin colour. A Half-Lacerta can also similarly climb and cling to flat surfaces. However, because of their diluted blood, Half-Lacertas don't have visible plungers on their hands and feet. They need to "wake up" the plungers by jumping at the surface they wish to climb. The effect of the impact 'wakes' the plungers, thus making it possible for them to climb..." _

Harry stopped reading. Was he a Half-Lacerta? He had green eyes, small size and according to Voldemort and the crazy old man in the cave, he smelled of vanilla. He didn't have pointed ears or gray skin though. Did that matter? Maybe his blood was more diluted, making him less than half. That would explain the lack of pointed ears and gray skin colour.

But how could he find out if he had Lacerta blood in him? _Hmm, well they seem to be gifted at climbing, with those plungers and all..._Harry stood up, searching for a bare wall he could use for his experiment.

He found a good space next to the TV. "Right."

Harry stepped back, stopping two meters away from the wall. He rubbed his hands against his jeans with nervousness. While it would be cool if he was be able to climb walls, he wasn't very excited to being a part reptile-like creature.

Harry looked at his hands. Did he have little plungers hiding somewhere in them? Well, there was only one way to find out.

Harry breathed in slowly, closing his eyes. He then expelled the gathered air from his lungs as slowly as he let the air in. He opened his eyes and lunged at the wall. Just before he hit the surface, he could see from the corner of his eye, Voldemort coming out through the kitchen door.

SLAM.

Harry collapsed to the floor. "Oww..." he moaned.

"What on earth are you doing, Potter?" Harry heard Voldemort ask. He was sure the man was smirking.

Harry rose from the floor rubbing his left arm, willing the ache to disappear. Why did he have to do something so stupid as jump at the wall!? At least he knew now he wasn't Half-Lacerta. The teen turned to Voldemort.

"I'm doing research," Harry said in a tone as if jumping against walls was completely normal.

"By jumping at the walls?" Voldemort took the book of creatures from the table. He observed the open page. "Vigera-Lacerta?" the Dark Lord glanced at the small teen whose cheeks began to colour in lovely red. Harry turned his gaze at the floor.

"Like I said, I'm doing research."

"You silly, silly child. You're not a creature," Voldemort was amused. He put the book back on the table and waved Harry over. "Come here."

The smaller wizard walked reluctantly beside the Dark Lord. Voldemort wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders, brusquely bringing him against his side.

Harry was bewildered by the sudden proximity. "Do you need to be so close?" Harry struggled under the arm but the man had him pinned tightly against him. Voldemort ignored Harry's protests and tapped the text on the book.

"Read."

Harry blinked once before his eyes latched onto the sentence Voldemort had pointed to.

"_If a Vigera-Lacerta mates with a wizard or a witch, their offspring is unable to use magic, thus making him a squib. The only difference between Half-Lacerta with a magical parent and Half-Lacerta with a non-magical parent, is that the one with magical parent is physically stronger..."_

Harry stopped reading, he didn't need more information. His gaze locked onto the opposite wall, his eyes staring into nothingness as he tried to push down his embarrassed mortification. A squeeze on his shoulder snapped him out of his daze.

"Didn't read the whole chapter, did you? Even if you didn't read this very important piece of information of Lacertas, I have no idea how you came into your conclusion of being a Half-Lacerta."

Harry tore his gaze from the wall and lifted his eyes to meet crimson. "But they are known of their green eyes, small size and a scent of vanilla!" Harry had a strong urge to defend himself.

Voldemort pinched Harry's ear. "Yes, and I can see you have pointed ears and-" he released Harry's ear and cupped his cheek " grey skin. You are obviously also a squib."

"Yes, yes. I get it!" Harry snapped. He knew he hadn't do very good job at his research and had simply jumped to a conclusion too fast. He should have at least read the whole chapter before trying to climb the walls. Because he didn't, he now had an aching arm and something Voldemort would no doubt poke fun at...Anyhow, this was his business! Why did Voldemort care? "Your point is?" Harry glared.

Voldemort buried his fingers into Harry's hair and started to caress the silky locks almost as though he didn't realize he was doing it. "You are a terrible researcher. You obviously need help," the man smirked.

Harry squirmed in Voldemort's hold. "Will you stop that!"

"What ever do you mean?" The smirk widened as he slid his hand from Harry's shoulder to his neck and then back to his shoulder again in smooth, intimate motion.

"That!" Harry struggled. "Stop touching me!"

Voldemort chuckled at the boy's discomfort. Even though it seemed that he was highly enjoying himself, Voldemort let his arms fall to his side.

Harry backed up quickly. "I can figure this out on my own. I don't need your help." Harry held his head high. He wouldn't let Voldemort help him in any kind of way. He didn't want Voldemort to think he was a helpless child, a child who couldn't do anything on his own. That was something he couldn't stand; Voldemort treating him like a child. Like he was no threat at all. Like it would be so easy to step on him, squash him like a bug. Harry gritted his teeth. Voldemort would take him seriously. He would make sure of that.

Voldemort sighed. "Very well. When you come to your senses, you know where to find me." He turned around to leave.

He paused at the kitchen doorway and glanced at Harry over his shoulder. "But if you want that information, it would behoove you to remember it's not for free."

Harry stared the back of Voldemort as the man disappeared into his bedroom. There was no point in reminding Harry about the conditions. He had already set his mind in doing this alone. He would not need the Dark Lord's help, and he didn't, under any circumstance, want to be spanked by Voldemort again.

The green-eyed teen walked to the dining table holding the heavy book and slammed it shut. He knew he should continue his research, but his thoughts were distracted by a certain snake-faced bastard. Harry didn't know what to think of the Dark Lord. He was confused, that was for sure.

The man had been his cruel aggressive self, until the bathroom incident. Voldemort's behavior had taken a complete turn. For the better? For the worse? Harry wasn't quite sure which one was better; the hostile and homicidal Dark Lord or this new creepy Voldemort who couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Either way, it led Harry's thoughts back to himself. What kind of a being was he so that the most feared Dark Lord changed his behavior around him? Would Voldemort be "nice" for the rest of their imprisonment? Harry snorted. _Not likely._ Voldemort was a Dark Lord after all, a Dark Lord with a terrible temper, never mind his blood lust and penchant for torture.

Harry walked to his wardrobe and put the creature book in it. Maybe Voldemort was nice now but he would soon forget what Harry was, and would be in his throat again. Harry sighed. What was he anyway? If he wasn't a creature , then what else could there be? Were there different kind of wizards? He stared thoughtfully at the wardrobe. Why not?

"I need a book on different types of wizards." There was a familiar thud. Harry opened the door and excitedly picked up the book. "_Wizarding types_" was the books title. Harry eagerly opened it. Was this his answer?

_"__Which type of wizard are you?_

_1. Angry wizards p. 1-6_

_2. Bald wizards p. 7-8_

_3. Mad wizards p. 9-56_

_4. Crackpot wizards p. 57-157..."_

Harry didn't waste his time anymore with the book and threw it angrily over his shoulder. He then stomped over to the couch. He lay down and closed his eyes in frustration. Pointless. Absolutely pointless! He would take a nap. Maybe his brain would start working a bit better after a short nap.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, it took so long to update. It was difficult to write this chapter and I must admit I have been a bit too lazy :(

In the last chapter's AN, I promised some answers of their kidnapper and a new mission in this chapter, but the original chapter 5 was way too long, so it's cut in half. The next chapter will be out soon.

Onto the good news! I have a beta! Thanks to Yellow Eggplant this chapter is much more readable :D

**Thanks for all those who reviewed!  
**


	6. Garret

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

**A/N:** _*Gasp* Wasn't this one fast update or what? :D _

* * *

**6. Garret**

Harry awoke hours later to the house was shaking.

Finally, _finally _they could go in a mission! Harry jumped from the couch as soon as the house landed and ran for the hall as fast as he could. Once there, he saw Voldemort was already opening the mailbox, so he turned to the shimmering wardrobe. _Gosh, I hope it isn't something even more ridiculous than that leather outfit_.

With trepidation, Harry reached in and took out the clothes the house wanted them to wear. A quick look had him sighing in relief. This time they both had simple black cloaks with hoods, something what Harry's bare-bones fashion sense agreed with. He turned to Voldemort, the cloaks in his arms and stared when he saw the Dark Lord was holding something in his hand. Harry moved closer to take a look. It was a photograph, a muggle one at that.

It was of a young man, maybe three or four years older than Harry, with short sandy hair and dark brown eyes that could be easily mistaken as black. A long scar from his temple to the right corner of his mouth adorned his face. While he had a strong jaw and straight aristocratic nose, Harry wouldn't call the man handsome. Actually he was rather average looking, someone that was very easy to forget.

The most obtrusive features were his accessories and expression. Harry had never seen a smile so cruel (except on Voldemort) or eyes so heartless and cold. He tried to shove down the urge to shudder and looked down to the man's simple brown cape. The other side of the cape was pulled behind his back showcasing the three sheaths on his waist. The longest had to be a short sword. The other two were daggers. He wore brown pants and boots that reached to his knees. Finally the Gryffindor teared his gaze off the picture.

He glanced at Voldemort. "Do we need to find him or something?" Harry didn't really want to find the man. He looked exactly the kind you wanted to avoid.

Harry waited in silence as Voldemort continued to stare pensively at the picture. After a moment Voldemort turned the photograph around. On the back, there was a scribble of red ink that the younger wizard couldn't read from his position. "What does it say?" Voldemort handed the photograph to Harry.

"_Get rid of this hindrance,_" Harry looked at Voldemort. The man had an ominous smile on his face. Harry gulped. "Get rid of him as in kill him?"

The widened smile and a bloodthirsty glint in the Dark Lord's eyes was all Harry needed to confirm his suspicions. Great, they had to do some killing again, not that Harry had done the deed in the last world...But this time they had to get rid of a human being. No matter how cruel their target seemed, Harry didn't want to kill him. He didn't want to kill anyone. Except Voldemort...and maybe Malfoy. That ferret really pissed him off sometimes. And a world without Snape would definitely be a better place. Oh, and Colin Creevey had always annoyed him to no end, so maybe he would be better off dead too.

Harry blinked. What the hell? Had he actually thought such horrible things? What would his friends think of him if they found out what he was so—evil? Or Dumbledore? Killing was wrong. ___Wrong, wrong, wrong__._ Harry snickered bitterly in his mind. Why was he trying to deny his thoughts? He wasn't an avid fan of murder like most Death Eaters, but he did approve killing in some degree. Some people just deserved death, wizards and muggles alike. Harry would happily be rid of his relatives. Permanently. Of course he hadn't ever mentioned his thoughts to his friends or to his mentor.

The picture stared up at him with cold eyes. Did this man deserve death? Was Harry really prepared to kill? He was unsure, and a little scared too. He had never taken a life. Considering his companion was a psychopathic Dark Lord, he doubted he would be the one to end the life of their target. But still, Harry wasn't too happy with their new mission. The man looked dangerous, the worst kind of crook. Of course it would be easy to Voldemort to fight him but Harry had little magic available. He sighed. At least he could get some fresh air, maybe buy some clothes this time if got any money as he did in Lizard World.

Harry glanced at Voldemort who was putting on the cloak Harry had given him. The man was more than pleased with their new task. Harry thought of their kidnapper as he clasped on his own cloak. If the previous task and now their current one were anything to say about their abductor, Harry would have to call him, or her, a blood-thirsty bastard. Why did both of their missions revolve around killing? Well, the first one wasn't exactly about killing, it was about helping the barmy old wizard, but still, it wasn't very good idea to let loose a Dark Lord among the people. Seemed like their kidnapper didn't really care. Maybe he was as bonkers as Voldemort.

"Ready?" Voldemort was at the front door, his hand on the handle and face turned to Harry.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded.

* * *

Harry's head went from left to right. The Red House had anchored itself into a row of terraced houses and it looked like he had stepped right in the middle of a 17th century muggle town. If he hadn't already known their house was magical, he wouldn't have been able to tell by its appearance. Harry and Voldemort's abode looked just like the other houses in the row.

The two wizards were standing in a narrow alleyway. The road and houses were made of paved stone, perpetually damp with rain and other unmentionable liquids. Nearby there was a pair of women, both looking miserably poor and tired, selling groceries behind their wooden market stands. Not one of the passerby's stopped to buy or even look at the two stands. Harry took a closer look at one of the stands. They sold apples and carrots, both looking rotten, and if it wasn't so cold, Harry was sure there would be clouds of flies surrounding them. No wonder no one bought anything.

Suddenly Harry's back slammed against the Red House's front door as a man in black bumped his shoulder into Harry's. The teen's head followed the man who kept walking like nothing had happened. He didn't even apologize! Harry's eyes followed the man's back until he disappeared into the crowd. It was rather surprising how this gloomy alleyway was so full of people.

"What are you still standing there?"

Harry turned to look at his right. An impatient Voldemort stood in the middle of the alley, his bald head covered by a hood. Harry walked over to him, glancing furtively at the people passing by on both sides of the road. Some of towns people were ignoring them and others scowling, clearly angry that the two wizards were blocking half of the narrow alleyway.

Harry nervously glanced at Voldemort. "Shouldn't we move? People are glaring at us."

Voldemort nodded. "You are to follow me, understood?" He whirled around and started to walk straight toward another creepy looking alley that disappeared behind a simple looking arch. The walk down the shadowed alley was silent. Harry had no idea where Voldemort was going, they took so many corners and turns, and all the alleys looked so alike that Harry didn't know the first thing how to get back to the house. Did even Voldemort know the way back? As Harry was about to grab Voldemort's cloak and stop the man, they came to a town plaza. Harry's eyes widened a tad. "If I didn't knew better, I would say you have been here before. How the hell did you know where to go? I hope you know the way back," Harry looked over his shoulder back to the alley they came from. Maybe all alleys would eventually lead to the plaza?

A trace of anger laced Voldemort's voice as he answered. "Of course I know how to get back, Potter." Harry slightly narrowed his eyes at the Dark Lord's tone.

"You didn't answer the first question," Harry stated after a moment of silence. Voldemort didn't answer and simply began to stomp to the nearest market stand.

"Fine, ignore me then," the teen hissed through his teeth. Harry didn't follow him, instead he observed the plaza. He was sure there were at least hundred of market stands. He started to walk around so he could get a better glimpse of the goods they were selling at the market. Most sold fruits, vegetables, bread, fish and meat. He saw a couple of fabric, jewellery (Harry was sure they were filled with fakes and junk, because anyone with even an ounce of common sense would know not to sell anything so valuable in a crowded open market such as this), and candy stands.

Harry wasn't sure what kind of money they used in this world but he regretted he hadn't thought to bring the money bag with him. Even if the currency had been different, he could have used the money from the lizard world to barter or he would have ran before the seller noticed the different money. Harry stopped in front of a candy stand where a kindly old woman smiled at him. "These are sure to be the best apples with fudge icing you have ever tasted, lad!"

Harry shot his head up from the delicious sight and put his hands up. "Uh...I don't have any money with me...madam."

An angry snarl replaced the woman's smile. She took out a broom under the stand and tried to hit Harry from across the stand. "Get away from my stall you miserable animal! These ain't for free!" Harry dodged the broom as he stared wide eyed at the woman. Harry glanced at the people aroud him but no one paid attention to him nor the woman. Maybe this happened often?

Harry brought his attention back to the old seller. "I didn't think they were for free. I was merely looking at them." She stopped the broom waving. Her eyes were narrowed with loathing. " I know your kind, you are nothing but a filthy yob! You were about to steal them, weren't you?"

"I was not! How dare you-"

"Guards!" the woman shrieked and waved her hand. Harry watched horrified as two big mean looking goons with long swords on their hips started to stalk towards them.

The teen wizard blinked once, then he ran, and he ran as fast as he could. Because of Harry's small size, it was easy to zigzag his way to freedom among the towns people. When he was far away from the woman with her fudge apples and sure the guards weren't following him anymore, Harry stopped for a breath. He looked around. He had run to the other end of the plaza and before him a large arch opened a way into another shadowed street. He looked back at the people at the market then back at the street. He could see someone moving in the shadows. Harry shuddered. Better lost his way in the crowd than be lost in a dark and dangerous looking street. Besides, he had to find Voldemort, an the man was probably still somewhere in the plaza.

Harry passed dozens of market stands until he saw a small platform surrounded by a curious crowd. Harry moved closer. A plump man, dressed in a ridiculous looking purple outfit, was showing off a new invention as a man with a long hair and happy smile on his face sat on a chair beside him.

"Let me announce to you ladies and gentlemen, your balding days are over!" He had his arms open, like he was going to hug the crowd. "With this," the plump man held up a glass jar and showed it to everyone, "you will never see the skin of your head ever again! The new Wonder Balder is answer to your problem!" Harry stared at the jar in the man's hand. The goo in it was a light brown with an odd thick consistency. The presenter of Wonder Balder walked over to the man who sat on a chair and smiled charmingly at the long haired man.

Then he turned to look at the crowd again. "Here sits Henry, a victim of balding for 10 years! But no more! As you can see, he has a nice long hair." The plump man moved behind Henry and took a hold of his hair and spread it wide so the crowd could see his hair better. "Henry, like my hundreds of other satisfied customers, began to use Wonder Balder only two days ago," he paused as people gasped in amazement. Harry snorted.

"Exactly, my dear audience, it is true. Wonder Balder cures your baldness. It gives you a long, strong and healthy hair. Rub it into your scalp 5 times a day and after two days you will have grown hair so magnificent that even his Royal Highness will be envious." The crowd applauded excitedly, all leaning closer to Wonder Balder seller. They waved their money in the air, yelling "I want that!", "I take three!" , "Amazing, my baldness has an answer!" Harry snickered to himself. These people were fools. The product was obviously fake. He was sure the people in the market were muggles, so that meant the hair growth goo was non-magical, which meant it had to be fake. Although, it would be hilarious if he bought one jar for Voldemort.

Suddenly a shiver went down Harry's spine. He was sure someone was staring daggers at him. Harry spun around and locked onto a familiar cloaked figure. Speak of the devil...The figure beckoned Harry over and he shuffled towards the cloaked man.

Harry halted in front of him and with a unrepentant grin, exclaimed, "Ever had problems with your hairless head? There's now a new product in the market, the marvelous Wonder Balder! Does wonders for your baldness!" Harry sniggered.

The cloaked figure lifted his head so Harry could see his blazing red eyes. "Continue Potter, and you will soon realize you have lost your ability to speak," Voldemort hissed dangerously.

Harry tsked. "A sore subject, is it? But don't worry, I promise I won't tell anyone." The _Crucio_ shot his way came so fast that Harry almost didn't have time to dodge it.

"Are you crazy? We are in the middle of a muggle market! How could you-" Voldemort interrupted him by grabbing the back of his neck and shoving him into an empty alleyway.

"Where have you been?" the Dark Lord inquired furiously as he lowered his hood.

Harry rubbed his neck, Voldemort had amazingly tight grip. He shrugged. "Looking around."

Voldemort towered over to the teen. "This is not a sightseeing tour, Potter! I said to follow me! Why is it that you never listen?"

"Maybe I don't like to be ordered around!" Harry was yelling now too. Why couldn't Voldemort just understand? Didn't he know how ridiculous it was for him to listen to a man who killed his parents, who tried to kill him so many times? The one who brought nothing but sorrow, pain, and death with him?

"This is not about your likes and dislikes, child! It's about survival! Take a look at yourself. You are no stronger than a 13-year-old girl," Harry was very offended by this and opened his mouth, but Voldemort continued over him, "you have no wand to protect yourself and-"

"I can do wandless magic!" Harry interrupted, feeling defensive.

"Oh? Then why don't you show me? I would love to-" Voldemort stopped and his eyes widened. He then grabbed Harry by his throat and hoisted him against the wall, a snarl across his face."Your magical core is still bound! Why haven't you told me!?" Voldemort was beyond furious. Harry couldn't speak, the man was crushing his windpipe. When Harry began to make weird gargling sounds and his face started become an interesting purple, Voldemort let up his grip on the teen's throat and simply watched as Harry collapsed to the ground.

Harry gasped desperately for air. While his breathing steadied, his panic was rising. What would Voldemort do now, when he knew Harry couldn't properly do magic? How did he find out it anyway? Did he invade Harry's mind without his notice? Harry stared wide eyed up at the blank faced Dark Lord. He was sure the man would do something painful to him, surely he would punish him for lying or even just for fun? Harry was not looking forward to it. He wasn't one of Voldemort's followers, so he wasn't obliged to Voldemort in any way, but Voldemort was a dark lord. A man who didn't accept disobedience from anyone. Harry closed his eyes. He had no wand, his magic was bound and he was physically weaker than Voldemort. The best solution was to wait his punishment. If he didn't fight back, it would be easier.

So, Harry waited and waited and waited. Why wasn't he in pain? Was this one way of torturing him? Making him wait for the immense pain that would soon to posses his whole being? Harry took a shaky breath and he opened his eyes. Voldemort was still standing beside him, glowering down at him. After another long moment, Harry couldn't take the silence anymore. "Are you going to hurt me now?" Harry was surprised when the anger in Voldemort's eyes dulled and he crouched beside the small teen. Harry's whole body tensed as Voldemort came closer.

The Dark Lord bore his eyes into the small figure. "Do you want me to hurt you? You surely need a good punishment, but alas, we don't have time for that." Voldemort took Harry by the chin. "Listen very carefully. Because you have no access to your magic, you are defenseless, an easy prey. Since I'm the only one who can protect you, you must not go wandering off on your own."

Harry was sure his eyes would pop out any minute now. He was flabbergasted. This was not the reaction he expected. Yes, he could clearly understand why Voldemort wanted him safe, but he had prepared himself for a little torture. Voldemort didn't like it when something was kept from him. But seeing Voldemort so protective was plain weird, and it annoyed Harry to no end.

"I'm not made of glass! I can take care of myself, I've avoided your attempts at killing me all these years, shouldn't that tell you something?"

Crimson eyes filled with annoyance. "That is entirely different matter!"

"_What_? How the hell is that different!?" Harry shouted furiously.

Voldemort was very close in _Crucio_-ing the brat but he managed to restrain his urges. He instead completely ignored Harry's outburst. "Why didn't you tell me about your magic still being bound, Potter? You even lied you could cast wandless magic. It's very idiotic to lie about your abilities to me. What if we ended up in a fight, and our survival depended on you?" Harry had never thought it that way. When he realized how stupid his action was he felt ashamed of himself. Why on earth did Voldemort have the ability to evoke guilty feelings in him? "Really, Potter. What were you thinking?"

___That you would kill me if you knew__,_ Harry sulkily thought. It was rather a silly idea. The most important thing to Voldemort was his own life, his own survival; he would never kill Harry when his life was tied to the green-eyed teen. But Voldemort was an enemy no matter the situation and him not being able to use magic properly was a huge disadvantage. Harry didn't voice his thoughts aloud though. Voldemort was already enraged enough, nor did he want the Dark Lord to taunt him or change his mind about torturing him. Harry bowed his head in defeat. "I knew you would put leash on me, that's why I didn't tell. And I'm not powerless, I'm quick, I'm good at dodging spells, punches or anything that's thrown at me. And even if I'm not physically strong, I can defend myself well enough," Harry raised his head. Green eyes full of defiance, anger and pride gazed at crimson. "I didn't lie about wandless magic. I can do minor spells." Harry stopped, pondering quickly if he should reveal he could use core magic as well. Maybe it was best if he admitted his abilities to Voldemort. Maybe then the Dark Lord wouldn't breath on his neck all the time.

"I can also use core magic. My core might be still bound, but there's a hole in the wall surrounding it. I can use the magic pouring through it."

Voldemort's thin lips curled upwards a bit. "Impressive. It is known only powerful wizards can access their core. You do know of the risks of using core magic?" Harry nodded. Of course he did. He had studied it very carefully.

Voldemort brought his hand on Harry's chest as he lowered his eyes at the same spot his hand lay. "Ah yes, there is a wall surrounding your core." Voldemort stayed silent for a moment as he stared intently at Harry's chest. Harry was sure the Dark Lord could see his core. Why else would he be staring?

After a few minutes the Gryffindor began to squirm uncomfortable under the intense stare. "Umm..is the touching necessary?" Harry asked uncertainly. Voldemort lifted his eyes. He smirked as he started to slide his hand up and down on Harry's chest in several sensual rotations. Harry's face flushed. The stroking sent pleasant shivers up to his spine but he did his best to ignore the feeling.

"We need to solve this little problem of yours. Have you tried to widen the crack?" Harry nodded. "And?"

Harry shook his head not trusting his voice at the moment. Voldemort chuckled as he took his hand off Harry's chest and pulled up Harry's hood to cover his face.

"From now on, you keep your hood up. We don't need any unwanted attention centered on you." Harry mentally scoffed. Why would anyone be interested in him? He was only avarage looking guy in his own opinion. Voldemort on the other hand, looked like some weird snake hybrid, he was the one they should worry about.

Voldemort stood up. "We need to continue our mission." Harry rose to his feet, nodding. The guy from the picture, he had almost forgot their reason for being here.

"Are we going back to the market? Ask people if they have seen him?"

Voldemort pulled his hood up. "No. Considering his looks, he must be a criminal, a murderer at best, is my guess. Only those who have inflicted torture or death, and enjoy it, have eyes like his. I have seen it in my many followers. Not a bad selection at all; if this man had been a wizard, I would have recruited him." Harry couldn't see Voldemort's face because of the hood, but he was sure the man was smirking. "In any case, it wouldn't be wise to ask the regular citizens about him. We need to find the right kind."

Harry pushed himself off the stony ground and Voldemort waited patiently until Harry was standing beside him. Side by side they continued down the dark street.

* * *

Harry leaned against the doorway as his eyes followed Voldemort go from one thug to another. This was their fourth tavern and Harry always waited silently in the doorway while Voldemort showed the photograph around. They only picked taverns that seemed filled with things of the worst kind. Harry didn't like any of them, and he wasn't even talking about the people. The taverns were all badly lit, dirty and probably filled to the brim with disgusting diseases if the tired and jaded women who paraded about were who he thought they were. The Dark Lord certainly knew how to find the scum of this city.

"Well?" Harry asked when Voldemort glided across the room to him. After asking so many people, there should have been at least one person who knew their target, but so far no one seemed to know. It was making Harry vaguely irritated and mind-numbingly bored.

The tall man stepped outside, Harry following behind. When they were a good distant away from the tavern, Voldemort answered. "He's an assassin." Harry's eyebrows rose at that. He should have guessed.

"Oh? There was finally someone who knew him?"

"Yes. But he was very unwilling to share his information, at least in the beginning. It took a little...persuasion." Harry stared at him suspiciously. Voldemort sounded a bit too pleased with himself for something so simple.

A sudden scream pierced the air—coming from the direction of the tavern. Harry faltered in his walking, "What did you do?"

"Hmm...I did nothing much, but it's such a shame that he's become a vegetable for the rest of his life." A pleased smirk curled across his pale face. Harry sighed. He didn't like Voldemort's way of fishing information but he couldn't really do anything to change the man's violent tendencies.

"Did you find out where he lives?"

"There wasn't much information in the muggle's head. He only knew that our target is a member of the Assassin Guild. I say we search for that next."

Harry's mouth made a small 'o' of surprise. "There's an assassin's guild?" Then he frowned. It was already rather late. Soon, the alleys would be dark and without any light it would be like walking blind. He was also hungry and thirsty and he wasn't sure if it was very good idea to invade a guild full of assassins, ever. Of course they had to first find it before they planned anything else.

Harry wasn't a coward or anything, and he was sure muggle assassins were no match for Voldemort, but he wanted to be prepared when they confronted their target. Using bits of his magic wasn't enough so the teen wanted something extra to protect himself, something like a dagger would do fine. Maybe Voldemort would transfigure one for him like he did in the lizard world?

"We have no idea where the guild is and something is telling me it won't be easy to find, so I say we go back to the house and continue our task tomorrow."

Voldemort drew closer to Harry and slung his arm around the smaller male's shoulder. "Afraid? Don't worry, Harry, I will protect you," Voldemort simpered. Harry slapped the arm away. "I'm not scared! I'm hungry, thirsty and tired. I just think it would be wiser to find the assassin's guild tomorrow."

"Of course. What ever helps you sleep at night," the Dark Lord hissed, incredibly amused.

Harry covered his ears with his hands, yelling, "I'm not listening to you!" and stomped away from the man.

Voldemort followed the tempered teen, all the while chuckling to himself. "Slow down, child. Do you know where you are going?" Harry stopped. He had no idea where the Red House located. He turned to Voldemort with folded arms with a pout and glare.

"I'll take that as a no." Amusement lacing Voldemort's voice he continued, "It's that way." The Dark Lord nodded his head to the right. Harry stormed into the dark alleyway, Voldemort silently walking behind him with a smile.

* * *

The plaza was empty. All the market stands had disappeared along the people, every now and then torches lighting the way for the two wizards. Harry was dead tired and he wished for nothing else more than a glass of water, a little snack, and his comfortable bed.

When they reached the end of the plaza, something caught Harry's eye on his right and he teen turned to look at the shadows. There was someone standing there. Harry stopped walking as he tried to see who it was more clearly. Suddenly the figure stepped from the shadows and Harry's eyes widened when a pair of striking deep blue eyes glowered eerily at him. Harry recognized him immediately—he was the same man who tried to take Harry with him in the lizard world! Even if the shadows hid most of the man's features, Harry could see a lopsided grin forming on his face.

"Voldemort!" Harry breathed hastily. The Dark Lord was a few steps ahead of him, not noticing the teen stopping until he was called. The teen pointed a shadowed corner in the plaza. "He's the same man from the lizard world!" When Harry had voiced his realization the man in the shadows bolted into a narrow alleyway on his left. The green-eyed wizard didn't wait for Voldemort's reply, and he began to chase after.

"Potter! Come back here!" Harry could hear Voldemort yelling after him but he didn't stop running. With so little light it was very dark in the alleyway, so Harry drew up a small amount of magic from his core, lightening up his left hand. He hoped Voldemort was following him. Even if he could catch the man, he wasn't sure if he could fight him. Not that he wanted to fight him, Harry only wanted to talk. Dozens of questions run through his mind as he silently followed the man. Who was he? What was he doing here? _How_ could he be here?

Harry saw an edge of a cape disappear around the left corner into another alley. Harry quickly copied him, mind still streaming with questions. What if this man was their kidnapper? What if he followed them, spied them in every world they entered? But if he was their kidnapper, then why would have he tried to take Harry with him in the first world? Wouldn't it be easier to snatch him from the house, if he really was the one controlling it? More importantly, why would he want to abduct him when he was already a prisoner in the Red House? Unless this man wasn't their kidnapper. Harry slowed down a bit. Maybe it wasn't very good idea to go after him.

A red light came from Harry's left, hitting the shadows farther away in the alleyway. Someone yelped in surprise stratling Harry. His heart was hammering in his chest so fast, he thought it would soon burst from all the adrenaline in his body. Harry let out a shaky breath when he noticed it was Voldemort who came up behind him, wand still glowing with the after-charge of the spell. The Dark Lord's hood was down and he glared angrily at Harry as he walked to the man on the ground. Voldemort lifted the man up and pinned him against a wall. "Is this him?" Harry was surprised Voldemort didn't yell at him for dashing off so suddenly.

The teen walked over. Deep blue eyes were staring at him as he observed the man. Harry frowned in confusion. When he had first glanced at the man, he had been sure the man was the same man from the first world. But as now observing him more carefully, Harry could see mild differences. His hair was much shorter, he was paler and he looked like he was in need of a good rest. He had slight wrinkles around his eyes even though he didn't look a day over thirty. The other man had looked ageless. This man was handsome but he didn't possess the same beauty as the other did. The only thing that was exactly same was the shining deep blue eyes.

"I- I'm not sure...He looks the same and yet he doesn't."

Voldemort let out an angry grunt. He released the man and turned to Harry. "_Not sure_? You made me run all the way here for some random muggle!?" Harry gave a sheepish smile and let out a small awkward laugh. "Well, he has the same eyes..." Harry glanced at the man. No...he wasn't the same one. He looked much like him but he wasn't the same.

Voldemort was about to give an angry retort when the stranger spoke.

"Now, now boys. No need to fight," the man said in a conversational tone. He turned his eyes at the Dark Lord. "I'm not "some random muggle" Mr. Riddle." The stranger had Voldemort's wand stabbing his neck within seconds.

"How do you know that name?" he hissed coldly, dangerously. Harry stared at the man wide eyed, ready to draw his magic if the situation demanded it. The stranger gave a small smile and simply lifted his hands in surrender. "Hey, I don't mean either of you any harm. Why don't you point your wand somewhere else and we can discuss things over like civilized people." The tip of Voldemort's wand began to glow green. "Maybe not," the stranger said with raised eyebrows. He cocked his head a bit, like he was listening to something, then he suddenly disappeared.

Harry blinked. How was that possible? There was no sound, no magic Harry could sense. He just vanished into the thin air. Voldemort spun around with alarm.

"May I introduce myself," came a voice behind them. Harry turned and saw the stranger standing lazily in the middle of the alleyway. "Those who know me, call me Garret." Harry stepped away from Voldemort when he felt the man's aura lashing out angrily in the air. It would be better to stay away if Voldemort and Garret started to fight. But, when Harry glanced at Garret, the man didn't seem like he was preparing to battle; showing only an expression of vague interest at Voldemort's show of power.

"How do you know that name?" Voldemort repeated. He then took stealthy steps toward Harry, and once he was close enough, he yanked the teen behind his back.

"I know many things," Garret answered as his eyes traveled from Voldemort to Harry who was ogling the man from behind the Dark Lord. The answer only agitated Voldemort even more and he shot a curse at Garret. The blue eyed man raised a hand in front of him. Harry's mouth fell open with shock when the red light was absorbed right into his open palm. _How the hell did he do that?_ Harry glanced at Voldemort. There was no sign that Voldemort was surprised of Garret's talent, but Harry was sure the Dark Lord was just as surprised as he was, he only hid it well.

Ignoring the entire attack Garret gave a friendly smile as his eyes locked with shocked green ones. "I am curious, who did you think I was?"

Harry bit his slower lip. He quickly looked at Voldemort. The man had his wand pointed at Garret, his eyes were narrowed slightly and his stance had became more wary. Harry could almost feel the Dark Lord's anger in his skin. Voldemort wasn't used to being ignored, especially after an attack. Harry glanced at Garret. Should he answer? Should he tell the man they were from a different world? The teen didn't get any hostile vibes from the man. Suddenly Harry got an idea.

"I will tell you if you answer a few questions of mine." Garret's smile widened. "Bargaining, eh? It's a deal."

Harry took a deep breath before he began to explain. "At one point, there was a man who tried to....force me to go with him...You look remarkably like him."

"In this world or another?" Garret's eyes were shimmering oddly.

Harry gasped, he was about to answer when Voldemort voiced his exact thoughts. "How do you know about the worlds?"

"I will tell you after Harry has answered my question."

The man even knew his name! Who on earth was he? The teen hurriedly went on with his answer, deciding to answer truthfully. "In the last one. I don't know the world's name."

Something flashed in Garrets eyes and his smile faltered. "And he looked like me? Tell me, did he have a longer hair? Was he a bit taller than I? What about the eyes? Were they the same?" Harry nodded to every question.

"You know him?"

"Maybe." He took a few steps towards Harry. "This is very important. You need to tell me exactly what happened between you two."

Harry was taken aback a bit. Why was this man so interested? Harry didn't have time to answer when Voldemort opened his mouth. "He answered your question, now it is your turn to answer ours." Garret turned to look at Voldemort. He regarded him for a moment. He backed away in the shadows so that only half of his face was visible.

"Fine."

"What are you?"

Garret gave a small bow. "A Shadow Mage."

"Is that why you could do that hand thing?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. Garret gave a small laugh.

"Yes. It's a little useful trick." Harry snorted inwardly at that. A little useful?

"I have never heard of Shadow Mages," Harry mentioned absently, he wanted to know more about these mages.

Garret nodded. "They are not widely known." It was clear he didn't want to give them anymore information of his kind.

"How do you know we are traveling between different worlds?" Voldemort's eyes were full of suspicion, but his voice had an edge of curiosity.

"You are using the Red House of course. Unwillingly, might I add."

Something clicked in Harry's mind. Was Garret their kidnapper? He had to be, why else would he know about the Red House? Apparently he could travel between worlds and Harry could tell he was powerful. He had to be their abductor! Harry was sure the man wouldn't answer to his next question but he had to say aloud his suspicions. "Did you trap us there?"

Garret burst out laughing. "Oh, heavens no! I'm not that powerful."

"Then how do you know about the portal-house?" Voldemort interrupted the mage's laughter.

Garret straightened his cape before he answered, a lopsided smile on his face, "Because I work for her, the one who trapped you in house."

Voldemort advanced threateningly towards the man, his wand hand itching for a fight. "Then tell me, who is she? And why has she trapped us in the house?"

Garret suddenly vanished from the shadowed corner he had been standing. He was now a few steps behind Harry. "I can not tell you that," came a quiet answer. Harry turned around as quick as a lighting. Blue eyes stared at him. "Now, why don't you tell me the exact happenings between you and my copy?" The man was about to grab the small teen when a sharp voice pierced the air.

"Accio Harry Potter!" Harry felt a tug on his stomach and in no time his back slammed against Voldemort. Strong arms came to held him firmly against the firm chest. "The next time you try that, you will be dead," Voldemort hissed venomously, his eyes piercing furiously the mage.

Garret raised his eyebrows elegantly. "Now this is rather surprising! I would have never guessed a Dark Lord would be so protective of anyone."

Voldemort scoffed mockingly. "It is a must. I will not be trapped in the house forever, thus, the brat must live."

Garret gave a small clap. "I should have known you would figure that out. But you are wrong, my intention is not to harm him. She wants you both alive and I can not go against her wishes."

"I don't care about your reasons. You will not touch him," came the angry snarl.

The Shadow Mage gave a knowing smile. "Oh? Could there be something more to it?"

Voldemort didn't answer, he only hissed angrily. Harry on the other hand was annoyed. Why were they talking about him like he wasn't there? What more could there be than Voldemort's own life on the line? The man was a narcissistic bastard and cared for no one else than himself. When Voldemort and Garret started to exchange insults again, Harry tuned them out and became lost in his own thoughts.

So, Garret was a Shadow Mage, who was working for their kidnapper. He could obviously travel between worlds and had powers Harry had never seen before. He was interested in the man from lizard world. Was the other man important somehow? Harry was sure Garret knew his copy...Suddenly something came to Harry's mind. It was about their kidnapper, something he had ignored before. Harry looked at Garret.

"When you talked about our kidnapper, you said her. Your boss is a female?" Harry felt like snickering at Voldemort. Their kidnapper, a person stronger than the Dark Lord, was a female! Harry had nothing against powerful women but it was sure to hurt Voldemort's pride.

Garret took his gaze from Voldemort as he shifted his eyes at the teen. "That is what she wants us to call her. I think its one of those mother periods she sometimes has." Harry scratched his head in confusion. "So, she's not a female? Why would any male want to be referred as 'her'?" Harry was sure now; their kidnapper was nutty as fruitcake.

"She's not a he," the mage stated like it was a matter of course. Harry however, was now totally confused. After a moment of silence he came to a conclusion. "Sooo...she's a hermaphrodite?"

"Absolutely not!" Garret shouted, distraught. "What on earth do they teach you in that school of yours?!"

Voldemort started to cackle madly. Harry didn't find anything funny about the situation. He squirmed himself out from Voldemort's hold. Harry folded his arms as he directed an angry stare at Garret. "You are not making it very clear you know. I take it that your boss is a female then."

"It is not a matter of her gender, it's a matter of how you refer her."

Harry gave a dry smile. Great, more riddles. Apparently the subordinate was as crazy as his boss. Why was he surrounded by insane people?

When Voldemort had stopped laughing Garret spoke. "As much fun as it was to speak with you, I need to go. Any last questions?"

Voldemort took the photograph from his pocket. He walked over to the mage and handed it to him. "Do you know who this is?" Garret observed the man in the picture. "Glarence Hermit," he said without taking his eyes off from the photograph. "An assassin. A very dangerous one."

Voldemort sneered. "I'm not worried of a mere muggle."

"You should be," Garret said seriously, his eyes darkening a bit. "Don't let his lack of magic fool you."

"Do you know where the assassin's guild is?" Harry asked.

Garret shifted his eyes at the small teen. "I do but I'm not telling you. She will be enraged if I help you too much. But I can give you a hint." A pause. "Black Stone."

"Black Stone?" Harry repeated. Maybe it was a place? Monument? Person? Garret nodded.

"Why does your boss want him dead?" Harry asked. The Shadow Mage didn't answer, only smiled mystically as he stepped into the shadows.

"Good luck finding him. Better luck catching him." Then he was gone.

Harry turned to Voldemort. "He helped us. Do you think he's on our side?"

Voldemort regarded the teen for a moment. "Even if someone helps you, it doesn't mean they are doing it for your sake. I would be wary of him."

"But I don't think we should be afraid of him killing us. He said that his boss doesn't want that."

"True. I am sure we will not be killed by him nor by his boss's hand but that doesn't mean they won't let us die on one of our missions. Even if they tried, they won't succeed." Harry nodded absent-mindedly. Voldemort was right, he shouldn't be too trusting.

Voldemort pulled his hood up and Harry yawned. He haven't even realized how tired he was. If he couldn't get to his bed soon, he would fall asleep standing.

"Come, lets get back to the house." Voldemort waited until Harry was beside him. The older wizard took a hold of the dazed teen's hand. Harry was so sleepy that he didn't even notice their intertwined hands. Together, they walked (well, mostly Voldemort dragged Harry after him) through dark alleys, empty plazas and crowded taverns until they reached their destination.

* * *

** More A/N: **_This is originally part two of chapter 5 but it's now under chapter 6. _

_ Many wondered what Harry is and I can tell you that it will be revealed after 3-5 chapters. So, you need to be patient. _

_There is something I actually realized just now: It's about Harry's scar. I haven't written anything about it hurting when he's near Voldemort. I sort of forgot it If you do wonder why Harry's not in pain when close to Voldemort, it's because the Red House's magic nullifies the pain to zero. And the effect continues in the other worlds. Anyway, should I add it to the story? Maybe I should. Maybe it's in the next chapter. Who knows? :D  
_

_I haven't really answered to your reviews but I want you to know that I love to read them! And I love to know what you think about the story!  
_

_Also, a big thanks to my beta for fixing this chapter so fast!  
_

_Until next time!   
_


	7. Training

Disclaimer: I Don't Own Harry Potter

**A/N: I'm sorry it took so long to update. I lost my 'muse' and it took two months to find it.**  
** Well, it's all thanks to ChibiIchigo101, she inspired me to write and she also beta'ed this chapter because my first beta has disappeared somewhere.**

**So, here's a new chapter, read and enjoy!**

**

* * *

**7. Training

Harry sighed contently. He could feel something very warm and comfortable beside him.

A small smile tugged his lips as he snuggled closer to the source of warmth. He draped his arm around a huge pillow thinking how comfortable and safe his little bed in the alcove could make him feel. Harry happily let out a soft sigh as he squeezed his huge pillow tighter. He was back drifting off to his little dream land when a disturbing conclusion filled his thoughts. Something was wrong...but he couldn't figure out what. His eyelids fluttered a little as if he was about to open them but he didn't. He only tried to fall asleep again. But that gnawing _conclusion _of something being off didn't leave him. He scoffed irritably. He wanted to sleep, damn it! Why couldn't this ominous feeling in his gut leave him and his cozy hugging pillow alone?

Harry frowned. Hugging pillow? Since when did he have one? _Then why do I have one now? Oh no_, Harry thought. He had a very good idea what that comfortable 'pillow' was but he still hoped he was wrong.

Slowly_,_ he opened his sleepy eyes dreading the worst. Startling green eyes stared at something black. Then his eyes gradually trailed the black -cloth, Harry realized- up till he met _those _red blazing eyes staring right back at him.

"OH MY GOD!" Harry screamed as he quickly pushed himself as far away from the figure lying on top of the bed. With a loud thump_,_ the teen fell down from the bed and onto the hard floor.

"So loud in the morning," said an irritated voice from the bed while Harry was still facing the cold floor. Slowly with trembling limbs, the teen rose from the ground to his feet with horror evident in his eyes.

"You!" Harry pointed at Voldemort who looked back at him with a blank face. "Why are you here! Sleeping...and...and...!" He wanted to say more but he couldn't find the words and his thoughts were a mess from shock and disbelief. He just couldn't believe the situation he found himself in. Harry tried to work it through in his head but it was like there was a dam blocking his stream of thoughts.

_As _Voldemort was lying on the right side _of _the bed_,_ _h_is eyes gleamed with amusement and he lifted his hand to hold up his head. "First, this is my bedroom, so why on earth wouldn't I be here? Second, sleeping is what you do at night, and as you can see, it's morning which is _a _natural time for a human being to wake up," the Dark Lord said slowly in a patronizing tone as if he was explaining something big for a small child. Harry stared. Then he stared some more until he finally opened his mouth only to close it moment later. After repeating the same process_ a_ few times_,_ Harry could see how Voldemort got frustrated with the silence.

The older wizard sat up_,_ "As charming as your imitation of a fish is, I would not want to spend the rest of the morning watching your performance."

The half insult made Harry return back to earth from his shocked and silent state. His cheeks became red from the embarrassment and anger that he was feeling inside. "Why the hell was I sleeping in your bed!" Harry screamed accusatively. He couldn't help wild images of Voldemort stealing him from his little alcove, so that the Dark Lord could use him in his perverted session with his paddle. "You did something, I know you did!"

Voldemort's forehead wrinkled as his non-existent eyebrows rose, and then the expression was quickly replaced by a smug smile. "Trying to play ignorant, hmm? It was _you _in your half sleeping state that clung to me yesterday evening when we got back to the house. I would have dropped you on your bed but your grip on me was so tight _that_ I had to take you with me."

Harry's eyes widened a little. _No...it couldn't be true. Why, he would never...!_ Harry began to think furiously about the happenings of yesterday. He remembered how he felt dead tired after meeting Garret. He also had a fuzzy image of Voldemort and himself walking through the shadowed alleys...After that_,_ everything was black. Was Voldemort speaking the truth? Did he fall asleep? More importantly how could he have fallen asleep in a situation like that? Harry's blush deepened as his mind drifted back to the fact that he had thought Voldemort as a pillow.

"Well, I can't really say I had an unpleasant night. Neither did you if your snuggling to me was anything to tell of," Voldemort gave a small_,_ amusing laugh as he watched the very embarrassed teen before him. Harry raised his gaze from the floor to Voldemort which he immediately regretted. Voldemort was staring him intently, almost intimately_,_ which made Harry discombobulated more than ever but also a little scared. Soon the expression was gone and Voldemort's thin lips curled into a sly smirk_,_ "You owe me breakfast after making me your personal pillow."

Harry was sure his face was as red as a tomato by now. He quickly made his way to the kitchen – not even bothering to think what kind of impression his fast decision to obey Voldemort's demand gave the Dark Lord. He only wanted to get away from the said man as fast as possible. And if it meant making breakfast for the source of his inhumanly stubborn blush, he would gladly take the opportunity for a few moment_s_ alone.

When Harry was closing the door which lead to the kitchen he got a last glimpse of the lounging half snake_,_ half human on his bed laughing happily but quietly to himself. As soon as the door clicked shut, Harry turned around and leaned his back on it. Oh Merlin...he had slept with Voldemort. He had snuggled Voldemort! And the bastard was laughing! Harry slowly made his way to the cabinet which he knew was full of ingredients for today's meals. He took toast, eggs, bacon, fruits and a canned baked beans and then walked near the stove in a haze.

He had to admit to himself that he had never had such a peaceful night. He had slept without any nightmares and he didn't stir in the middle of his sleep. He had even felt safe! Something he never felt before while sleeping. Harry always had a fear of Voldemort invading his mind when he rested. So why had he felt so safe? He should be worried of his mental state...What kind of person felt comfortable and safe when sleeping beside a homicidal psychopath?

With anger directed towards himself_,_ the green-eyed teen began to make scrambled eggs along with baking bacon and beans, sandwiches and fruit salad. When breakfast was ready, he put them on the dining table. Then he went back to the kitchen and searched the fridge. There was a bottle of orange liquid. Harry opened it and after smelling it, he took a sip. _Pumpkin juice? Well, that's a pleasant surprise._ He took the bottle and went for the cupboard in order to pick up _a_ couple of glasses. His eyebrows rose when his gaze settled upon a bottle of wine. He had only once drunk wine which was foul to his taste so he didn't like to drink it but maybe Voldemort did?

Harry nearly turned green instead of red when he realized his thoughts. Why did he care what Voldemort would like to drink? The bastard could die from thirst for all he cared...After a moment of inner battle against himself, the teen decided to take it_. _After all_,_ it would be such a waste to leave the wine when the house had so generously provided it.

With a bottle of pumpkin juice, two glasses and a bottle of wine_,_ he went to the living room and sat down to eat at the dining table after placing the bottles neatly in the middle. Luckily Voldemort had yet to come out of his bedroom. Harry really didn't want to confront the snake-faced man yet. It was irritating how the older wizard found most of the situations funny whereas Harry thought them rather embarrassing and annoying. There was nothing to laugh about! He wanted nothing but to avoid the arrogant bastard_. _However_,_ a part of him was itching to throttle the man until there was nothing left than a cold _dead_ corpse. But there was a deep_,_ confusing emotion under the bubbling rage. Why was Voldemort acting this way? Harry could have thought that the Dark Lord would have been disgusted or at least kicked the teen out of his bed. But he did no such thing nor did he do anything else that was violent. That is what baffled Harry the most. He was Voldemort's enemy – the bane of his existence for Merlin's sake! _Then why, oh why was Voldemort behaving __so differently._..? Voldemort's behavior must be related to the fact that Harry was something more than a mere wizard. It had to be! He couldn't figure out any other reason to change the snake-face so much. If only he could be sure...But still_,_ everything would be so much easier and less confusing if Voldemort had just been his murderous self towards the teen. He let out a tired sigh and then rubbed his eyes. If he thought any more of the stupid snake-face he would get a migraine.

A sound of a door opening made Harry jerk his head towards the kitchen. The moment Harry's eyes were captured by crimson, he turned his gaze back to his breakfast. A tint of red could be seen forming on the teens pale cheeks. Voldemort sat down opposite Harry and eyed the food before him. The teen knew that nothing good would come out of this breakfast session… All because of the stupid bedroom incident. The whole ordeal made him speechless in a bad way, not to mention a huge bunch of other negative feelings the incident had awoken in him. Harry also cursed himself for making such a grand meal.

_Just remember to keep your cool_, he reminded himself.

"Such a sumptuous breakfast today, for me I presume?_" _When he received no response, he continued,_ "_Why Harry, I'm flattered that you took my request to the heart," Voldemort smirked smugly. Then his smirk only grew when he noticed the wine on the table. "One day you will make a wonderful wife to someone," he said as he eyed the bottle.

Harry's eyes grew wide and his expression was one of utter shock. Voldemort gazed at the teen and he started to chuckle_,_ "Oh yes, keep that expression. It suits you better than the one of a fish."

After the last comment Harry slammed his cutlery on the table and he shot a dirty glare in order to hide his growing uneasiness and the blush that was once again creeping up to taint his cheeks. He gathered all the rage he had and directed it to the smirking Dark Lord. "Wife! I'm a male, you bloody idiot!" Harry screamed losing all of his composure_,_ "And you presumed wrong! I was hungry and I felt like eating more than usual!" He knew his explanation was poorly made. But truthfully, he had no idea why he had cooked so much. Maybe it was because he was seething earlier and he needed something to occupy his hands with otherwise he might have done something he would have regretted later.

Luckily Voldemort didn't say anything. He only gave a knowing smile. Then he opened the bottle of wine, poured his glass half-full, tasted it and then he took the cutlery and dug into his food. Harry still had half of his food on his plate but he didn't feel so hungry anymore_._ _S_o he stood up and began to collect the dishes when a hand stopped him by taking a hold of his wrist.

"I thought you were hungrier than that. Besides it's rude to leave the table when someone is still eating." Something dangerous was glinting in Voldemort's eyes that had Harry swallowing any nasty retort he was about to spit at the man. Instead of opening his mouth_,_ he sat down and crossed his arms over his chest. Voldemort gave him a very unpleasant smile and then continued eating so Harry glared at the man. After a long silence which felt like an hour to Harry, he let out a deep suffering sigh.

"Sooo...who do you think the Boss is?" Harry asked.

Voldemort looked at him funny_,_ "Excuse me?"

The green eyed teen flew his fingers through his hair as he gazed Voldemort frowning_,_ "You know, our kidnapper."

The Dark Lord put his cutlery away_,_ "The Boss?" Voldemort raised his non-existent eyebrows_,_ "Why are you calling her that?"

"Well, doesn't it grow tiring to call her kidnapper or abductor or whatever? I mean she needs some kind of name, right?" Harry gave a sheepish half smile.

Voldemort shot an irritated look at the smaller wizard_,_ "Couldn't you come up with something else? There is no way I'm calling her Boss."

"What would you call her then?" Harry grunted.

"Bitch," Voldemort said hatefully, "sounds much better, doesn't it?"

Harry rolled his eyes. But he was secretly glad that Voldemort wasn't smirking at him anymore. Their current conversation made him feel so much more at ease_,_ "Are you even sure she's a woman? Garret wasn't very clear with his answer about the Boss's gender."

Voldemort took a sip of his wine, and gave Harry a smug smile but kept silent.

"So you are hundred percent sure she's a woman?" Harry probed after a moment of silence. Voldemort didn't say anything much to Harry's irritation. The snake-faced man only took another sip of wine and kept staring Harry with that same irritating smile which with each passing second_,_ grew wider.

Harry narrowed his eyes while his anger and frustration grew. After a couple of long minutes the younger male exploded. Again. So much for the keep calm_,_ "What the fuck is your problem! Can't you just answer the question?"

Voldemort leaned his arms on the table and he clasped his fingers changing his smile into an amused smirk. "You are so quick to anger, little Harry. Tsk, tsk, didn't Dumbledore teach you any manners?"

Harry stood up heatedly from his seat and was about to yell back at the man and curse him into the ninth hell when he suddenly realized something. With a sly smirk and a triumphant glint in his eyes he sat down_,_ "You don't really know either, do you?"

"Know what, Harry?" inquired Voldemort his smirk still intact though Harry could see a small hint of scruple flash in those crimson eyes.

"_You're_ unsure whether the Boss is a female or a male. You just don't want to show your ignorance and uncertainty on the matter."

Voldemort's smirk fused into an unpleasant smile which reminded Harry a lot of a smile of a crocodile_,_ "Don't talk nonsense, Potter. Of course she's a woman." He stood up ready to leave_;_ "Besides I'm not taking part in your childish squabble." Voldemort turned _around_ and began to walk towards the bathroom but he abruptly stopped when he heard the next sentence from a certain green-eyed teen.

"You are totally okay with the fact that Boss, who is a woman according to you, is way more powerful than you are?" Harry asked arrogantly.

The tall wizard turned around so fast that Harry could only see a black blur of a figure during the turning motion.

"Watch your tongue Potter," the Dark Lord threatened with his eyes glowing dangerously.

Ignoring the furious tone Harry raised his left eyebrow_,_ "Hit a nerve, hmm?"

"One more word Potter or I will spank your little arse till it bleeds."

Harry paled a few shades and he quickly averted Voldemort's cold gaze.

"Good boy," Voldemort said with a twisted sneer on his face. He then resumed his march to the bathroom.

When Harry heard the shower running, only then he had will enough to rise from his seat and gather the dishes_,_ putting them in the sink. After that, he went _to_ his wardrobe and asked for _The __Tales of Beedle the Bard_. After a loud thump he picked up the book and threw himself on the couch. He wasn't really interested in the book but he wanted to read something that would distract his mind from snake-face. The collection of wizard fairytales was the first thing that came to his mind. For the next ten minutes Harry read absentmindedly _The Fountain of Fair Fortune _until a creak of door opening made him look away from his book.

Voldemort walked straight to his bedroom closing the door behind him. Harry stared at the white door for a couple of minutes until till he went back to his book. After reading _The Fountain of Fair Fortune_ and half of _The Tale of the Three Brothers_ he could hear the door opening.

Harry's eyes followed Voldemort behind his book as the heir of Slytherin strolled from his bedroom with his black travelling cloak in hand. Harry put the book aside but before he had time to stand up and ask where they were going_,_ Voldemort opened his mouth.

"You're not coming."

"Huh?" Harry looked baffled.

"I'm going alone, Potter," Voldemort snarled.

"Where to? Don't tell me you're going to attack the Assassin's Guild? We_'_re in this together so I'm going too." Harry stood up – ready to get his black cloak but Voldemort's hand in the air stopped him.

The Dark Lord had a stern look on his face_,_ "I'm not going to attack the Guild. I have some other matters to take care of."

"Like what?" Harry scowled.

"It's none of your business, Potter_,_" Voldemort walked to the front door but before opening the door he shot a last glance at Harry_,_ "You are to stay here. If you even slightly open the front door while I'm gone, I will make sure you will be chained to your bed for the rest of our trip and your only companion will be my paddle." He opened the door and slammed it shut.

"What's his problem?" Harry raised his eyebrows slightly abashed. Then he shrugged to no one in particularly and picked up the book he had put on the table… _As _if he was going to follow Voldemort's orders. If he wanted to, he would step outside, no matter what kind of ridiculous threats Voldemort would rain down upon him. Although he had to admit to himself that every time Voldemort mentioned the damned paddle, he became very uneasy and squeamish.

What kind of business could the snake-face have in this town anyway? It wasn't like either of them knew anyone in this world… Maybe Voldemort lied to him and was on his way to slaughter their target. But if he really thought about it, there was no reason to lie to him, right? What would Voldemort gain from it? So maybe, he could trust Voldemort's word this time. He didn't really have _a _choice, did he now?

At least he now had the whole house to himself.

Harry had a lot to learn. First; he still had to figure out what he was, second; he had to find out how to expand the whole in the wall surrounding his magical core, third; destroy the paddle, fourth; learn how to see the threads of magic.

He didn't know how long it would take Voldemort to come back so he decided to destroy the paddle first. Determinedly the green eyed youth hurried to the only bedroom in the house. His eyes locked immediately on the paddle which was lying innocently on the nightstand. He slowly took a hold of the wooden paddle from hell. Voldemort would be enraged when he comes back and can't find his paddle but Harry would rather confront the Dark Lord's wrath without the paddle than with. And if the situation got really ugly_,_ he could always flee through the front door into the unknown city. If he wanted to stay hidden, he was sure Voldemort wouldn't find him. He would use that as a last resort which he hoped would never happen. Harry went to the hall and put on his travelling cloak. He hid the paddle in one of the inner pockets of his cloak and then walked out of the house.

* * *

Harry had no idea how long he had walked but his best bet was a good ten minutes or maybe fifteen. He had carefully memorized from which alleyway he continued to another since he didn't want to get lost. It was pretty amazing how these alleys were so incredibly narrow and the buildings so tall that only a few rays of sunlight could find their way to lighten the depressing alleyways. The young Gryffindor had pulled his hood up and he tried to look as invisible as possible. He didn't want any unwanted attention directed towards himself. There weren't many people walking in the alleys but those few who passed him were trying to be equally unseen as him. Harry wished he had brought some kind of weapon with him until he remembered he had the paddle which was more than enough of a weapon to defend himself if the situation required it.

Soon the alley ended and Harry found himself standing in a huge street. On his left there was a library made of white stone and on both of it's sides stood shops and other buildings. Opposite of the library there was a high tower where two guards were standing on the each side of the entrance to the tower. In a short distance from Harry's right there was a grand stone fenced bridge. On the other side of the bridge a forest started. The street was rather busy as different kinds of people were running on with their business. Harry let a small smile as he started to walk towards the bridge. It was perfect place to get rid of the paddle. The stream under the bridge was flowing furiously away from the city. He stopped by the fence and leaned over it to take a better look at the flowing water. It was rather black and he turned up his nose at the different kinds of trash he could see flowing between the small waves every now and then. No wonder the water seemed black when it was so filthy. Harry let out a small shiver when he imagined himself falling into the river. He wasn't an expert swimmer but he doubted that even the strongest man could fight against the powerful stream.

He gave a triumphant smirk when he took the paddle from his cloak and threw it into the river. He hoped Voldemort would never find another paddle from this world nor from any other either. Harry was about to turn around and leave when a small movement in the forest caught his eye. He turned his gaze in the shadowed view and intently stared at the spot he thought someone was standing. In no time a brown hare leaped from the bushes. It stopped near the river and stared straight at Harry's green eyes. The teen raised his eyebrows in amazement. He could see its nose smelling the air and its long ears stood erect as if it was listening to something. Harry would have wanted to say something to the brown hare but there were 50 meters and a river between them. Even if he had shouted "hey" he was sure the animal wouldn't have heard him because of the roaring river.

"Mister, hey mister!"

Harry turned when he heard someone addressing him and tucking his cloak.

"Yeah?" the teen asked when his gaze settled upon a brown haired boy who had unbelievably big blue eyes and a basket hanging on his arm which was full of red roses.

"Would you like to buy one, mister?" the child asked in a pitiful tone and Harry could see his eyes were holding unshed tears. All in all_,_ the boy looked very poor with his patched and dirty clothes and his equally dirty face. Harry could do nothing else than feel sorry for the poor child.

"I don't have any money with me..."

The boy nodded once. "Sorry to bother you, mister." He then sniffed and walked away as fast as he could with his short legs. Harry's eyes followed the boy until he disappeared in the crowd.

The green-eyed-boy turned his head back to the brown hare but to his disappointment it wasn't near the river anymore. He tried to search for it with his gaze but it seemed like the animal had left. Harry sighed and started to walk back to the Red House. He hoped Voldemort wasn't back yet for he knew there would be hell to pay if the Dark Lord had arrived before him. He was sure he would be punished twice as hard if the bastard knew that he had left the house and destroyed his paddle. Harry bit his lower lip as he mused how to make Voldemort not notice his paddle was missing. If the dark wizard didn't realize that his paddle had disappeared then he would be none the wiser of Harry leaving the house.

Sooner than he realized Harry was standing by the entrance to the Red House. He was afraid to open the door so he just stood there and bit nervously his lower lip till he could taste blood. He felt like a small child who had done something bad and knew that his parents would get him grounded but he knew that he would get something far worse than be locked to his room. He hated Voldemort for making him feel this way and he was disgusted at himself for feeling fear.

He licked the small drops of blood from his lips, took a deep breath preparing himself for the worst and then opened the door slowly.

Harry went in and closed the door quietly. Then he stood still like a statue waiting for Voldemort to bark in and yell "Where have you been?" But when nothing happened_,_ he visibly relaxed and put his cloak in the wardrobe. Just to be sure he checked every room so that he was certain Voldemort wasn't hiding and trying to make any surprise attacks on him.

After searching the small house he walked to his wardrobe with a relieved smile. As his first task was done he moved to his second one which was his thirst to know how to see magic in a shape of threads. He could already feel magic like so many of his kind but seeing it like Voldemort did, would be useful.

"I need a book of magical threads." There was a familiar thump and Harry hurriedly opened the door and took out a ridiculously thin book which was labeled "_Sight Magic_".

The young wizard went to his bed and lied down on his stomach with the book in his hand. He opened the first page and began reading.

_Introduction_

_Only a small part of magic is visible to the eye. The most known are streams of light when spells are cast. Such as ward magic, runic combinations, most healing spells and a few minor spells cannot be seen if one hasn't studied Sight Magic. _

_Sight Magic helps one to identify invisible spells and magic floating around oneself. Many can feel magic, example: if one is in a house that is warded, he or she can feel a pleasant or suffocating pulsating (there are tons of other feelings that can be felt but this book wasn't written for that purpose) but can not see the wards. With the help of Sight Magic, one will learn to see the strings and threads that forms magic in question. Sight Magic is most useful because it gives one to rein the magic better: example if a wizard or a witch intends to take wards down they need to use numerous spells first to identify the wards that had been cast. This can always lead to a troublesome situation when the magic wielder runs into a ward that he or she can not identify. When one has the knowledge of Sight Magic there is no use for any spells because seeing the magic will automatically tell what kind of magic one is against. This applies to all kinds of magic. _

_Sight Magic is very rarely known for it is ancient and exquisite and unfortunately a forgotten branch of magic. It is also extremely difficult to master. One has to be an expert in Mind Magic (ex. Occlumency), Wandless Magic and has wide knowledge of Magical Energies... _

Harry could have screamed from frustration. He sucked at Occlumency (thanks to Snape, he was a crappy teacher) and he had no idea what kind of magic was Magical Energies. At least he could do wandless but he wouldn't call himself an expert. He threw the book at the floor where it slid under the coffee table. He turned to lie on his back and he let out a tired sigh. Harry rubbed his eyes as they stung, he desperately needed his glasses!

He stared at the ceiling while he let his thoughts wander freely in his mind. If he had had the qualifications to learn Sight Magic he would have become so much stronger. Maybe he would have had even better chances in defeating the Dark Lord. Talking about the bastard, he couldn't help but feel somewhat depressed. Voldemort could see the magic which meant he knew Sight Magic. The realization made Harry despair and even more depressed. Was there no end to the powers of a certain snake-faced wizard? How could anyone think that he, a 15-year-old-boy, could defeat the Dark Lord? How could Dumbledore put his hopes on him? How could the whole wizarding world be dependent on just a mere boy?

Had Voldemort been right? That the only reason he had survived from the Dark Lord's wrath was because he had incredible luck?

_...but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not..._the words of the prophesy flowed into his consciousness. What kind of power could it be? Not even Voldemort could know everything about magic, right? Not even Dumbledore knew and he was more powerful than Voldemort... or that was what Harry used to think. He wasn't so sure anymore which one was more powerful. Getting to see the powers of Voldemort had made him think twice the roles of the two powerful wizards.

Harry closed his still stinging eyes as he thought again the power he was supposed to have. After few minutes the teen started to snicker to himself. Maybe his mysterious power Voldemort didn't know was his enormous luck? He imagined a scene where he had the fateful duel against Voldemort and because of his luck he would trip on a rock and accidently stick his wand deep into Voldemort's nostril (like he did to the troll in his first year) which would pierce his skull killing the man on the spot. The mental image lightened his sour mood. Things weren't so bad if he remembered to think positive. He was still young which meant he had time to train harder than ever. Voldemort was so much older than himself so it was no wonder that the man's knowledge surpassed his. And when it came to Sight Magic, he would master it. Occlumency wasn't impossible to learn, especially if he had better teacher than Snape. Magical Energies was nothing that wouldn't be found in a book. At least he hoped. Besides, as he was now trapped in this house, he should use it to his benefit. After all, his wardrobe was probably the greatest library he could ever run into.

With these thoughts Harry waltzed into the kitchen and began to wash the dishes.

* * *

When the last clean plate was securely back in the cupboard, Harry entered the living room when he heard the front door opening and then closing. Finally Voldemort had arrived from his "business". Harry let a small smile creep on his lips and he mentally reminded himself not to do anything that would anger the Dark Lord. Also he had to make sure that Voldemort wouldn't notice the paddle missing which would turn out to be difficult because the lonely night stand without the paddle would surely catch Voldemort's eye, after all the Dark Lord seemed to be quite attached to his paddle.

The delicate young wizard entered the living room and watched Voldemort through doorway putting his cloak into the hall's wardrobe.

"Well, how was your business?" Harry inquired with a polite tone. Mentally he thought how weird he must have sounded. It seemed like Voldemort thought the same _since_ he gazed with a hint of suspicious in his eyes.

After a moment of silence Voldemort answered_,_ "It was fine."

"That's...err...nice to hear." Harry could have smacked himself. What kind of respond was that? Now Voldemort definitely knew that something's wrong.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes_,_ "What's with you?" He _crept_ closer to Harry_, _"Have you done something I should know?"

Harry tried to look as innocent as was possible and he faked a look of slight confusion on his face_,_ "Can't I be in a good mood for once? And no, I haven't done anything you should know of." He settled a small frown on his face and he hoped that Voldemort couldn't hear his heart which was beating like crazy.

The Dark Lord scrutinized him with his piercing eyes and Harry was sure Voldemort could see right through him. But after a moment under silence and dangerous crimson eyes, Harry sighed mentally from relief when Voldemort turned around and walked into the kitchen.

"I know where the Assassin Guild is," Voldemort's voice carried through the kitchen and to Harry's ears.

Harry was now genuinely interested and went closer to the kitchen so he could see Voldemort. The teen watched as Voldemort took out the half full wine bottle and then walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. He poured himself a glass of wine and motioned Harry to sit beside him. Reluctantly, the petite wizard walked to the couch and sat down. He made sure to keep some kind of distance between himself and Voldemort.

When the older male decided to keep quiet Harry opened his mouth, "How did you found it?"

"Black Stone. It's a fountain near the plaza," Voldemort took a sip and Harry stared him expectantly – waiting for him to continue, "There was a rather complicated pattern carved into the fountain's stone. It looked like a piece of art if you watched it from afar. But when inspected closely, it seemed to be, remarkably, of a map of this city."

"How do you know what the city map should look like?" Harry interrupted.

Voldemort frowned a little because he was interrupted but answered nonetheless, "I made map of it today. The city isn't that large as I first thought."

Harry stared at Voldemort like he grew a second head. "Do you mean your weird "business" was a walk through the city so that you could make a map of it?" If that was how Voldemort had spent half the day then why hadn't he told Harry that he was going to make a map? Harry wanted to throttle the man but he had to keep his temper in check so he settled for scowl.

Voldemort made a rude noise. "I don't draw maps, Potter. I memorized it. It's in here," Voldemort pointed at his head, "Besides I would never draw a map which you could steal and wander with it Merlin knows where," he added as if the reason was obvious.

Harry snarled and crossed his arms over his chest in a resentful manner. _Of course, why on earth hadn't I thought of that_...Harry thought sarcastically. He didn't want to look at Voldemort's ugly mug so he stared angrily at the carpet on the floor.

"As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted, the pattern looked like a map, which it was. Although there was only a part of the city in there which, in the end, was instructions to the location of the Assassin's Guild."

Harry chewed his lower lip as he thought about what Voldemort had just said. Finally they knew where the Guild was and where their target would be, Glarence Hermit.

"Isn't it a bit stupid to make a map into a fountain? Anyone could find it there," Harry said while thinking that the Assassin's didn't sound quite bright.

"It wasn't as easy as it sounded, Harry. First, I had to stare the pattern very closely so that I could see it resembled a city map. Second, there were only pieces of the map which weren't in a proper order. And third, you have to know the city through and through so you can realize that it really is a map."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "How did you manage to search the city using only half a day?"

"Magic, my little Harry. Or have you forgotten it already?" Voldemort smirked arrogantly.

"Ha, bloody, ha," Harry glowered and Voldemort chuckled a little.

Now that they knew the location of the Guild, Harry hoped that they would get rid of their target as fast as possible so that they could leave this world and anchor to another one.

"We are not attacking the Guild tonight," Voldemort answered suddenly as if knowing the trail of Harry's thought.

Harry straightened his posture, "We aren't?"

"No," the Dark Lord said sternly, "You are not ready to confront a house full of assassins in your current state. Thus I'm taking you to train."

The smaller wizard was now totally amazed, "You are?"

Voldemort did something very un-dark-lordish and rolled his eyes. "Yes, so stop answering my questions with questions and go fetch our cloaks."

Harry could have run to the wardrobe but he wanted to keep some of his dignity so he walked slowly into the hall. All the nervousness, worry or despair he had previously felt were now gone and replaced by excitement and a steadily growing bubbling joy. When Harry really became beware of his feelings, he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for being happy that Voldemort would take him to train. They were enemies for Merlin's sake! He shouldn't feel like this! But no matter how hard he tried, there was still childish enthusiasm in him. Maybe he could just forget that it was Voldemort who wanted to teach him something. Besides what was he going to learn anyway? He didn't want to learn how to torture muggles that was for sure.

Harry took their travelling cloaks from the wardrobe and then handed the bigger one to Voldemort. "So what are we going to do exactly?"

Voldemort straightened his cloak while he answered, "We need to find out the limitations of your powers. I want to know precisely what you are able to do and with what magnitude." Harry gave a small mental sigh when there was no direct mention to the Unforgivables.

That said, the Dark Lord passed Harry and exited the house. Harry followed behind him with his hood pulled up and a small smile gracing his lips.

* * *

Harry trailed behind Voldemort in the maze of alleys as they neared their destination. Voldemort stopped when they got out of a little alleyway into a bigger stoned pathway. Voldemort observed the surroundings.

"This is perfect."

Harry ogled at the man. "Here? But it's full of people! How can I practice where everyone could see?" His eyes followed a woman who dragged three crying children behind her.

Voldemort turned his hooded head toward his companion. He put his arm around Harry's shoulder and began to walk forward.

"Exactly. This way you'll learn to use your powers in plain sight but concealed at the same time," he suddenly halted and gave Harry a searching look as if trying to determine if he should let him in for a big secret. After a moment of scrutinizing, Voldemort seemed to make up his mind, "What better way to get rid of vermin than under their very noses? They never know what hits them before it's too late."

Harry thought about this for a moment. He remembered his fourth year and their DADA teacher; a Death Eater right under Dumbledore's nose. Did anyone suspect it? No. Did the plan succeed? Yes, although Barty Crouch Jr. got his soul sucked out in the progress.

"I want you to learn how to use your magic in a crowed place but you need to careful not to be seen." Voldemort's head was facing Harry and he could see crimson eyes blazing under the hood now and then. "There is a forest nearby so we can go there later to see the magnitude of your power but for now, just settle for something minor."

Harry nodded and wondered what he could try to do. He was enthusiastic to find out how much of his power was available and even if he had previously failed in his task of widening the hole in the wall that surrounded his magical core, he was still ready to try again.

The Gryffindor wasn't quite sure if he was able to cast wandless magic. When casting wandless, the spell needed the whole magical core in order to direct the magic from it to the spell, it also needed the incantation either said aloud or not, so that the spell would work. But because his core was bound, he was quite sure he didn't have power enough on hand. The small hole in the barrier wouldn't be enough to fuel the wandless spells. He didn't have his wand with him and he was sure Voldemort would never borrow his own, not that Harry even wanted to touch such a tainted wand so, that left the Core Magic as his only option. When drawing magic directly from his core, he didn't have to say any incantation aloud or even think it in his mind. He only had to think what he wanted to do and then the magic would flow through him and do his bidding. Also, he knew for sure that he could use Core Magic because he had done so in the Lizard World.

Harry turned to Voldemort. "I should try something simple first so how about levitation charm?"

"I would have expected something more advanced. The spell is colorless after all so it's ricidiculously easy to cast. That is if you are even able to do it," the Dark Lord said with a trace of mock in his voice.

Harry clenched his fists angrily as he gazed at the people on the street. Voldemort make it sound like he was some weakling who couldn't perform even the simplest spells. It wasn't his fault that there was a fucking invisible wall blocking his core. He was lucky that there was a small hole which didn't leave him totally defenseless. But if he thought it more carefully Wingardium Leviosa did sound like a child's play...so maybe he should make it more difficult.

"Why don't you point me one of the people and I will perform it on him?" The street was awfully crowded and it would be hard to target only one especially if Voldemort chose one of the citizens standing far away which increased the possibility of the spell hitting someone else.

Harry could feel Voldemort's interest to grow a little. "Oh? This might turn out to be intriguing." He searched the crowd with his cold yet slightly amused gaze until it stopped on an obese middle aged man.

"See that pig over there?" Voldemort pointed slightly towards the diagonal direction to his right. "Slightly grey hair, expensive clothing..."continued Voldemort.

"You mean that one who is gesturing wildly with his hands to that thin man who looks like a mouse?"

"Exactly. Still think you are up for the task?" Voldemort asked smugly.

Harry mentally gulped as he gazed the fat man. It seemed impossible to hit him with the levitation charm. Firstly, the man was a good 25 meters away from them, secondly there were so many people passing the man that sometimes Harry couldn't even see his target because others were blocking his view. Even if the task was doomed to fail before it had even begun, he would not back off.

"Of course," Harry said with confidence he didn't really feel, "but I'm not going to make him float in the air. I will only lift him up a little so that it looks like he jumped."

Voldemort nodded approvingly.

The young wizard prepared himself for the task. The only thing he had confidence in was that he would be able to perform the spell. The hole in the barrier was big enough to channel magic into minor spells like the one he was about to cast. So...the problem was trying to get the levitation charm to keep going straight. Either he had to just give a lucky shot and hope it wouldn't collide into anyone else than his target or he could think something that would make the spell avoid other people...Harry rubbed his eyes, they still stung a little and his bad eyesight didn't help him any way in his task. Maybe he should just cast the spell and hope it would hit the obese man.

Harry concentrated and reached for his magical core. He quickly found the hole in the wall and began to draw magic through it. In his mind he imagined what he wanted to do as he made the magic circulate from his core into his right hand. This all took only two seconds. When he decided he was ready, he quickly waved his hand in the direction of the fat man. He could feel how the power left his hand towards his target. The moment he had shot the spell he knew he failed. There were just too many people walking in the streets. Second later, someone yelped as he was hoisted in the air and thrown couple of meters across the street. People screamed at the flying man who now lay on the ground on his face.

"Are you alright?" someone asked whereas someone yelled, "That was unbelievable! He was floating half a meter from the ground! I saw it!"

Harry watched from afar as the man who had gotten hit with the spell, stood up slowly holding his bleeding nose.

"My nose is broken!" the man yelled hysterically while people started to gather around him to see if he was alright. Harry felt a small shame for his actions. He hoped the man's nose wasn't as bad as he make it sound.

Voldemort began to laugh madly and when his sudden outburst ceased he patted Harry on the back. "That was refreshing," the Dark Lord chuckled while Harry gave him a scowling look. "I wonder what the old fool Dumbledore would say if he knew his precious Golden Boy was throwing muggles in the air and breaking their bones. Besides I thought your only purpose was lifting him up a little."

"It was an accident! I put too much power into the spell. Next time I won't be so careless," the green eyed male said determinedly. He would not give up! He would succeed, he was sure of it. Luckily the obese man hadn't left the street. His target was staring the man who had gotten his nose broken and saying something now and then to his mouse friend.

"That's the spirit, Harry!" Voldemort said supportively but Harry could hear malicious undertone. He was sure the Dark Lord was eagerly waiting for another bloodied muggle.

As the people were now pretty much surrounding the man with a broken nose, there was a better chance to hit his target. Harry sent another levitation charm on his way but it didn't hit the one it was intended to hit. Once again a man was lifted into the air. He landed on his left arm and when he stood up crying in agony, and much to Harry's horror, the man's wrist had snapped which made his hand hang in a very unnatural position. Now more people came to the street from the alleys to see what all the hassle was. A small ring of people surrounded the man with a broken wrist until the man had enough from the pain and fainted.

Voldemort was cackling and Harry started to regret his actions. Once again he had put too much power in his spell and this time the man had gotten hurt badly. Harry wasn't even sure if the doctors in this world knew how to treat so horribly broken wrist. He felt sorry for the man but the will to show Voldemort that he wasn't a weakling won over his empathy and morals.

He had to change his tactics if he wanted the spell to reach the correct target. Which meant he have to somehow bend the spell so it would avoid any unwanted citizen. But how...? Harry lowered his head and his eyes locked into stone ground as he tried to think different possibilities. He chewed his lower lip and was lost in his thoughts. When Voldemort started to emit trails of frustration and boredom through his aura, Harry suddenly snapped his head up. The stone floor...Maybe he could make the spell travel on the ground under the stones, so that it would avoid any unwanted people and when the spell would be under the fat man, it would lift from the ground and hit the man. His plan sounded great but was it even possible to do that? He had never heard anyone do it before. Ever. But maybe it was possible when using core magic? There was only one way to find out.

He crouched on the ground and put his right palm on the stony floor. Harry could feel Voldemort's burning gaze on his back, trying to make him lose his focus but he ignored the man as best as he could. He made a clear mental image of what he wanted to do and after gathering power from his core, he released the spell. If he watched closely, he could see a faint blue light travelling on the ground. He followed it with anticipation until his eyes locked at the obese man who was still talking with his mouse friend. Harry held his breath waiting for the man to lift in the air but nothing happened. He waited some more and when still nothing happened, he let out a disappointed sigh.

"Should I be impressed?" Voldemort asked in a bored voice.

"Shut up!" Harry snapped and crouched on the ground again. Voldemort's eyes narrowed dangerously and his magic suddenly lashed the air angrily but Harry was oblivious to this. His concentration was entirely in his task.

The green-eyed-teen quickly glanced at his target and then the ground. He would do this! This time he had to put a lot more power in the spell. He gathered twice as much power and released it into the ground. Once again there was a faint blue light but when last time nothing happened, this time the fat middle aged man was lifted in the air only that much that it looked like he tripped.

"Did you see that!" Harry jumped and yelled enthusiastically.

Voldemort nodded slowly as if he was at lost of what to say. Harry smirked triumphantly to this, "Pretty impressive, wasn't it?" he gloated.

"Seems like you're not as stupid as you look. And yes, it was quite ingenious to place the spell under the ground," the Dark Lord admitted reluctantly, "but if we had been in a wizarding street you would have been seen. As funny and entertaining it was, flying people are quite a catch to the eye. In other words, you failed."

Harry's mouth fell open from surprise and he was tempted to use the levitation charm on Voldemort and see how the idiot would be the one with a bloodied nose this time. Trust the stupid bastard to spoil his mood.

"Come, it's late. We should head back to the house," Voldemort said as he gazed the darkened sky.

Harry was a bit surprised how much time had passed. He nodded and walked pass the dark wizard into the alley he remembered them coming from. After walking for ages Harry noticed the familiar arch that led to the alley in which the Red House located. But before he could disappear into the said alley, someone took a hold of his wrist. Harry turned to look at the taller man.

"Are you aware there is a rat following you?"

Harry stared at Voldemort like he was crazy but when he heard something close to a squeaking, he looked down to his feet. And indeed, there was a big black rat whose eyes locked immediately with Harry's green. Odd...this reminded him a lot of the brown hare he saw on the bridge. Before Harry could do anything to the rat, Voldemort picked it up from its tail. The rat was squeaking like crazy and it squirmed in the air, trying to release itself from the clutches of Voldemort.

"It's not magical, that is for sure. I find it rather odd that a normal animal would take this much interest in you. Unless..." Voldemort pondered as he gazed at the suffering rat.

"Unless what?" Harry asked impatiently.

Suddenly Voldemort threw the rat and Harry could do nothing else than watch in dread as the rodent flew through the air and finally landed far away from them.

Harry had never been a big friend of rats, especially when back in his world there was a one rat he hated with passion, but he didn't approve Voldemort's behavior.

"What did you do that for!"

"I didn't like how the rat was following you," Harry couldn't see Voldemort's expression because the hood was covering it but he was sure he had a very pleased smile on his face.

"It was just a rat! You said so yourself. Why didn't you just release it on the ground or at least dropped it. Why the hell did you have to throw it?" Harry wasn't quite sure why he was so worked-up over a one rat but he had a feeling that he had to defend the poor rodent.

"Stop bitching, child and move," Voldemort snarled.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. He was not moving anywhere.

Voldemort sighed. "Fine, have it your way then." With one long stride the Dark Lord was standing in front of Harry. He quickly hoisted the teen over his shoulder and began to walk towards their house. Harry screamed and tried to kick Voldemort but a small pinch on his arse made him suddenly stop his struggling. His whole body tensed and his face paled.

"That's more like it," Voldemort said darkly and then, much to Harry's horror, he patted the teen's butt affectionately. This made the raven haired wizard speechless and he could only hope Voldemort didn't come up with anything else to try on his arse.

After a couple of minutes, Harry got his voice back. "I'm totally calm now, can you put me down?"

"No," came a short yet stern answer.

Harry huffed angrily and crossed his arms over his chest as best as he could in his position and decided to stare daggers at the stoned ground. Sooner than Harry could have hoped, Voldemort stopped and let the teen on the ground. Before the Dark Lord opened the door, he turned to Harry. "Tomorrow you shall practice more useful spells and I want to see how strong you can make them."

Harry nodded but all he could think was his small cozy bed where he could finally relax. Only if this damn stinging would disappear...Harry cursed and rubbed his eyes. Voldemort was about to open the door when Harry got an idea and stopped the man by taking a hold of his arm. "Umm...could you improve my eyesight? My eyes are stinging like hell and it would really help us if I could see clearly."

Voldemort turned to the small wizard and pulled the teen's hood down. He gripped the delicate chin and stared at the brilliant green eyes. Harry couldn't do nothing else than stare back at the crimson. He wasn't sure what Voldemort was thinking and hoped to find from his eyes, after all he wasn't a healer, but after a long scrutinizing stare, Voldemort spoke.

"Fine. I can correct it but I can't make it last longer than three days. After that I need to repeat the spell. But-" Voldemort said emphatically when Harry was about to interject, "- it's not for free."

Harry would have wanted to cry from frustration. Of course! Nothing comes for free...

"What do you want?" the Gryffindor asked tiredly. He had nothing to lose. If Voldemort wanted another spanking session he would care less because the man didn't have his paddle anymore. So in the end he would have to ask something else. Although Harry didn't wait eagerly the man's reaction when he would notice his precious paddle gone.

Voldemort's face came closer, "A kiss will do fine."

Harry startled, "W-w-what?"

"You heard me, Harry. I give you improved eyesight and you give me a kiss," the Dark Lord purred.

"Why would you want...something like that?" Harry asked while trying to fight the blush that was forming on his cheeks.

Voldemort's grip on his chin left and instead of releasing the teen he cupped his face between his hands. "Why indeed? Well, what do you say?"

Harry gulped. He was a loss of words. He just couldn't grasp the idea of Voldemort, the evil git, requesting a kiss from him – Harry who was the greatest thorn in Voldemort's side...Or was he? Because why would anyone want a kiss from a person they hated? Harry's sudden trail of thought was cut off when he realized how close their faces were. Voldemort was so incredible near that it made Harry uneasy with a rapidly beating heart and he wanted nothing but to run from the situation. _It's just a kiss_, a small voice whispered in the back of Harry's mind. _Just a quick small kiss...it'll be over sooner than you think._ Harry mentally shook his head to the voice. _What are you so afraid of?_ the voice asked. Harry didn't really know...why was he so afraid anyway? It would be just a small kiss on the cheek. Don't they do that as a greeting in France? It was nothing weird and was quite innocent, right? Then he thought about the clear eyesight he would receive. _Exactly, it's a small price...just agree!_ the voice commented in agitation. Why not? Just a small peck on Voldemort's cheek, it's nothing bad, really.

"Okay," Harry agreed but before he could even blink, a mouth crashed onto his making his eyes widen and his mouth open from shock which was soon invaded by a hot tongue. If Harry hadn't been so shocked he would have probably enjoyed the kiss but in his current state he could do nothing but let Voldemort control the consuming act. Harry remembered the kiss with Cho on his fourth year; it had been wet and awkward. This kiss was anything but. It was rough, dominating and possessive. He could also feel the incredible need in the tongue that was invading his mouth, which he didn't quite understand. Voldemort trailed his tongue in the hot and delicious mouth, exploring every corner of the sweet cavern. Harry was sure he was going to faint if Voldemort didn't pull back soon because he was desperately in need of air. Luckily, a second later Voldemort ended the kiss. Harry took a deep breath before he looked at Voldemort.

When he noticed Voldemort staring at him with a smug smile, Harry blushed with embarrassment and he gazed at the ground instead. He patted his hair straight -when had his hair got so ruffled - and tried to calm his raising heart.

"Now my eyes..." Harry said in a small voice, his eyes still staring at the ground.

"Of course," Voldemort took his wand, "I need you to look at me Harry."

Slowly but determinately he lifted his eyes. Voldemort made some complex looking wand movements while he muttered something. A white bluish glow emitted from the wand and Harry could feel a pleasant sensation in his eyes. He blinked a few times as the stinging ceased. He observed the surroundings and he was more than happy to say that his eyesight had never been so sharp. He could finally see perfectly! After looking around he turned to Voldemort who opened the front door and motioned Harry to step in, "After you, sweet."

Harry blushed at the name and hurriedly stepped inside.

* * *

**A/N: Next time, Voldie realizes his paddle is missing and Harry meets the consequences. Invading the Assassins Guild and more training. And maybe a start of a new mission if the chapter won't get too long.**

** Till next time.**


	8. I Know What you Did

**A/N:** I truly hope someone still wants to read this story even if the last update happened over a year ago :)

**_This chapter is not beta read so I apologize all the grammar mistakes and typos and something else that might annoy you._  
**

* * *

**8. I know What You Did**

Harry shifted his position on his little bed. He pulled the blanket up to his chin in frustration as he tried to get himself fall asleep. Stupid Voldemort and his stupid non-existent lips!

He couldn't believe Voldemort had kissed him! And he couldn't believe he was such an idiot for thinking even for a second that it would have been just a small little kiss on the cheek. But could he blame himself? He knew he was a bit naive in these kind of things. He had never had much time to think about relationships at school. He wasn't exactly living a normal life of a teenager.

Harry's cheeks got a red shade when he thought what kind of kiss it was. Voldemort had used tongue! It had been all over in his mouth and after the kiss, the guy had nerve to smile that smug smirk...Suddenly a realization hit him stopping his current thought.

Voldemort was a man! _A man_. He had kissed a guy for Merlin's sake! Harry took a sudden intake of air. Was the evil overlord gay? That seemed almost absurd! But if Voldemort wasn't, then why would he have kissed Harry then, another male? Harry furrowed his brows in thought. He knew for sure that he wasn't gay, he had never looked, or thought about guys that way. Was wizarding community as judgemental about homosexuals as muggles? Harry let out a small irritated sigh. He should have been more attentive when his school mates talked about these things. What had Ron said in the end of their 5th year? Something about attending the wedding of his distant cousin who was intending to marry another guy...

-Flashback-

_Harry sat on the last compartment of Hogwarts train beside Ron. Hermione sat opposite of the two boys. _

_"Would be great if you could come with us to Burrow this summer. I'm sure mum will say yes. After all she loves to have you around," Ron said while eating a chocolate frog. Hermione had a book on her lap but for once she wasn't reading. She was giving wary glances towards Harry. _

_"Yeah, would be great," Harry said absent-mindedly as he stared through the window, not really wanting to talk. He just couldn't get the image of Sirius falling through the veil. At the moment, he couldn't care less if he went to Burrow or not, he just wished he could get a moment alone._

_"Okay, um...so...well, it's just that my mum is forcing me to attend my cousin's wedding this summer, he's marrying some bloke from Germany, so I thought if you could come a bit earlier this summer than usual so you could attend the wedding too. Then I don't have to suffer there alone. I hate weddings," Ron grimaced._

_"Sure," Harry shrugged not taking his eyes from the passing scenery._

_Hermione stirred in her seat. "Did you say your male cousin is going to marry another male?"_

_"Yeah," Ron confirmed a small confusion shining in his eyes._

_"So, it's completely normal for a man to marry another in the wizarding world?" Hermione asked matter-of-factly but there was a hint of frustration in her voice, no doubt she didn't like the fact that she didn't know everything about wizarding community. _

_"Of course, why wouldn't it be?" Ron was now totally baffled and to prove his state he scratched his head in confusion._

_Hermione cleared her throat and took her best teacher voice. "You see Ron, in the muggle world, same sex marriages are highly looked down on. In some countries it's even illegal. Isn't that right, Harry," Hermione turned to the silent teen. She already knew she was right but she wanted to include Harry in their conversation for she was extremely worried about his best friend. _

_"Yeah," Harry said, not fully registering what they were speaking of. _

_"That's crazy!" Ron half yelled and a small piece of chocolate flew out of his mouth and almost landed on Hermione's thigh. The bushy haired girl looked disgusted at the chocolate lying on the __floor but Ron didn't seem to notice this as he continued his speech. "The same sex marriages have been going on for ages in the pureblood families! Everyone knows that two males producing..."_

_-_Flashback end_-_

After that Harry couldn't remember the last parts of the conversation because he had lost into his own sorrow filled thoughts about Sirius. At least he had his answer. He felt a small relief pass in his mind which made him think what for? Was he relieved that wizards didn't discriminate homosexuals? That it was something considered normal? Why would he care something like that? He wasn't gay so it wasn't something that applied to him. _Maybe you are feeling that way because of Voldemort? You were afraid that wizards and witches would look in disdain his sexual orientation, _a small voice whispered in Harry's mind.

Immediately Harry shook his head furiously. No no no! He didn't care about the bastard! In Harry's opinion the snake-faced wizard could shag house-elves for all he cared. Besides, Harry was sure the magical community didn't care about Voldemort's sexuality, there were enough problems with him already. And what was that little voice in his head anyway! First tricking him into kissing Voldemort, and now sprouting nonsense!

Arggh! Why did he have to mention the kiss? For his heart started to race and his breath became faster. Why was he reacting like this? It made his head spin with dozen of different feelings. The most identifiable was a huge astonishment but also a small fear was lurking in the shadowed corners of his mind, something the teen refused to knowledge for he was not afraid of Voldemort! No matter what the man came up with.

But most of all he was so damn confused. He wanted answers! Voldemort owed him a proper explanation. Not riddles nor bantering but a real satisfying answer. The small teen wanted to go into the Dark Lord's bedroom and demand an answer but he wasn't brave enough, some Gryffindor he was. But the ignorance and uncertainty was eating Harry. He felt like Voldemort was playing with him. Like this was some sick game of Voldemorts. Harry wouldn't put pass the man not to do it, after all he was a twisted and sadistic dark wizard who had killed Harry's parents among many others.

Voldemort's actions were slowly dragging Harry towards an emotional turmoil. He had always felt nothing but abhorrence, hatred and disgust towards the snake-faced man. But now, he wasn't quite sure what to feel. He knew he couldn't trust the man because Voldemort was anything but predictable...If he only knew what was the reason behind Voldemort's actions towards him.

Suddenly an unbelievable thought came to his mind. The idea was preposterous, it was downright barking mad; maybe, Voldemort had kissed him because he simply liked Harry... he started laughing hard. He had to muffle the sound into his pillow. He didn't want to wake up Voldemort after all, that would be horrible. After having an uncontrollable laughing fit, the teen calmed down. He had to wipe a few tears that had escaped during his hilarious moment. But seriously, what had he been thinking? Voldemort liking him? HA! What a joke. Voldemort didn't like anyone but himself. Something was earnestly wrong with Harry if he could consider even for a second that Voldemort was capable of feeling something other than hate towards another person. Harry was sure Voldemort could pretend positive emotions such as joy and liking something or someone but not really feel them. Dumbledore had said that Voldemort didn't know what love was, he was incapable of feeling love. If Harry remembered right, the Dark Lord had once mentioned how feelings were nothing but a weakness.

The small teen made sure to erase any thoughts of Voldemort liking him, if the snake-face would ever take a peek in his mind and see his thoughts...well, Harry was sure he would die in embarrassment.

The petite teen massaged his temples. He should really stop thinking and start sleeping...easier said than done for every time Harry closed his eyes, he saw Voldemort's face hovering over him, ready for another kiss...

Harry started to hit his head into his pillow. Stupid images didn't leave him alone! It was all Voldemort's fault. Everything was his fault! He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and just forget the whole episode. The teen took a more comfortable position in his bed and warped the blanket tightly around him. He closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind from unwanted thoughts. Slowly but steadily the images left him and finally he fell asleep.

* * *

_He was running through the forest. Every now and then a branch licked him, leaves stuck to his skin and clothing, never falling down as if they were glued to him. He ran fast, so fast that it would have been impossible to follow him. _

_He could feel the wind ruffling his hair, air caressing his joy reddened cheeks. He felt like he could fly. He could hear the wind whispering promises and freedom if he just rose from the ground into the air. He hastened his steps, he was ready to fly. But before he could jump into the night coloured sky, he stopped. It wasn't like he wanted to but he couldn't make his feet move. He tried and tried but he still couldn't move. He felt like he was nailed to the ground. As he tried to lift his legs he could see movement in the shadows. He raised his eyes from his ground stuck feet and looked straight at a brown hare sitting in the shadows. _

_Green eyes met green. He stared into those curious eyes. Eyes so much like his own. _

_He felt joy as the brown hare leaped closer to him. He stretched his hand, wishing the animal come nearer, never breaking the eye contact. He smiled when the brown hare came so close that if he leaned forward a little bit, he could touch its white brown nose. _

_Then suddenly the brown hare disappeared and he was drowning. He kicked his legs and moved his arms but he still couldn't reach the surface. He was desperate to get air for his lungs were burning but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't swim upward. The more he tried the more he sank. His mouth opened in a reflex to breath but instead of air he got mouthful of salty, dark and cold water. _

_As the water impinged his dying lungs, his eyes started to flutter close. But before he could close his eyes, he could see something red and yellow taking a hold of his wrist._

_Up, up, up he went._

_Something pulled him on the ground. He coughed the water out of his lungs. When he was done, he looked up. A human like figure made of blazing fire was staring straight at him. The figure didn't have any facial features except eyes._

_Green eyes met green. He stared back into those curious eyes. Eyes so much like his own. _

_He felt joy as the figure crouched before him. It brought its fire crackling hand on his young smooth cheek. It didn't burn, not at all. It felt nice, safe and warm. Like a touch of a loving mother._

"_Water is the last," he could hear it rasp even if it didn't have a mouth._

_He momentarily closed his eyes and when he opened them, he was back in the forest. He was sitting around a camp fire. He was staring at the dancing flames. _

_He could hear movement around him. He lifted his gaze from the fire and looked around the place. He watched as dozens of different kind of animals walked, hopped, crawled and flew near him. Some of them were normal, from the muggle world and some of them were magical. _

_And they all had green eyes. Eyes so much like his own. _

_He welcomed them warmly and they came nearer with eager steps. A black cat jumped into his lap and he patted its head. Three birds landed on his both shoulders and he whistled a song only a bird could understand. A raccoon poked gently its head against his right ankle, demanding to be scratched or at least patted as the black cat was. He watched a unicorn coming closer to him. When it was close enough, he extended his hand and stroked gently the white soft snout._

_He spent time with the animals and watched hypnotic dance the fire was providing for him. He was listening the wind as it was happily playing with his hair and the branches of the nearest trees were playfully caressing his body every now and then. _

_He felt like he belonged and he wished he could stay there forever..._

_...until the snake came. _

_It was white and its eyes were different. Instead of green, they were bloody red. He had a sudden chill going down his spine. He could feel dread rising inside him but he calmed down a bit when he noticed that the animals weren't afraid of this so different snake. They looked the white predator with suspicious eyes but they didn't do anything. After a moment of scrutinizing, the animals seemed to accept the snake. _

_He relaxed and watched the snake to slither before his feet and start to climb its way into his lap. The cat mewed disapprovingly and then jumped off, making room for the snake. _

_Green met crimson. He stared at those sly eyes. Eyes so different than his own._

_He wasn't afraid of it any more, only wary. _

"_You belong, they belong," the snake hissed as it gazed at the beautiful green eyes._

"_You are one with them, they are one with you," it said while looking at the animals around them. _

"_But," it brought its head towards him, "we are one more than they can ever be." _

_Then it bit him. _

_He screamed when he felt poison flew from the fangs into his veins. It burned inside, it burned outside. The venom made his body convulse in pain. He felt agony he had never felt before. He was weakening fast and he could hear the wind blowing furiously, leaves rustling restlessly, the fire crackling outrageously and the animals cry desperately. _

_He could feel darkness coming near him, engulf him little by little. Before it took him completely he heard the last words of the snake. _

"_No one will separate us. No one will come between us." _

* * *

Harry woke up panting. The blue bed sheet was tangled around his body and he realized he was covered in cold sweat. He sat up and wiped the wet forehead with his palm. He rubbed his eyes while waiting his breathing become steadier.

He had no time to analyse his weird dream because a sudden chill run down his spine as if he knew instinctively that someone was watching him. Slowly and warily he turned his head towards the dark room. He gasped when he saw nothing but crimson eyes in the air.

"V-Voldemort! What are you doing here?" Harry asked in wonder and he was ready to let out a relieved sigh until he noticed that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Voldemort was not smirking nor smiling smugly. He wasn't even scowling angrily. His facial expression was giving nothing away, only his eyes were giving a hint of what was to come.

Harry had thought he had already seen Voldemort in his most frenzied state, but how wrong he was. The Dark Lord's crimson eyes were burning with so incredible rage that Harry had never witnessed in a living being before. But, what was worse, was the madness Harry could clearly see in the blood red eyes. The madness he knew was residing in the Dark Lord, but not really witnessing the whole blow of it yet. The whole posture of the man was screaming 'danger!'. Even the air was colder than usual in the room.

When Harry hurriedly sat up and tried to make himself one with the wall his back was leaning, he realized that this was the _real_ Voldemort. The most feared Dark Lord in the world.

Voldemort took a threatening step towards Harry.

"You _lied_ to me. _You disobeyed_ me!" Voldemort hissed in a barely restrained anger as he took slow steps forward.

"I-" Harry started with a weak voice which was laced with deep fear as he watched Voldemort slowly coming closer.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort roared and in a flash he was hovering over the green-eyed teen and he took a firm grip of Harry's chin, bringing the teens face closer to his.

"_Did you think you could fool me?" _Voldemort hissed in a deathly whisper and Harry was so lost in the madness of red eyes that he almost missed the fact that the Dark Lord was speaking in parseltongue.

"_N-no..._" Harry squeaked, not noticing he responded in the same language. If he hadn't been so scared, he would have slapped himself for sounding like Wormtail.

"_I wonder..."_ the grip on Harry's chin moved to his throat and squeezed a little "_how should I punish you?"_

Before Harry could even open his mouth, he was yanked off the bed. He collapsed onto the ground hard, his left side aching from the impact. Harry yelped in surprise and in pain when Voldemort took a hold of his ankle and began to drag him roughly through the living room into the bedroom.

Harry screamed and tried to take a hold of anything that came across him. He grabbed firmly on the bedroom door frame, trying to prevent Voldemort dragging him into the bedroom. But Voldemort was too strong for Harry. In a blink of an eye, the Dark Lord hoisted Harry from the ground so that the teen's grip slipped from the door frame and he was roughly hurled on the bed on his back.

As fast as possible, the teen wizard sat up and backed off against huge pillows that were resting against the massive headboard.

Voldemort approached Harry slowly, his eyes flashing between exploding rage and eerie madness. The raven haired wizard's heart was beating rapidly as if he had just ran a marathon. Even his breath was a bit abrupt. Harry could only watch his forthcoming doom in the eye.

He was sure this would be it.

The end of his life.

He wanted to do something, anything, but for some reason he couldn't even lift a finger. He was paralysed by fear. And a majorly pissed Dark Lord whose body motion were resembling soon-to-be-attacking snake weren't helping Harry's condition at all.

So the teen closed his eyes, not bothering to think himself being a coward for doing so, and wished to be anywhere else but here.

He knew he was going to feel horrendous amount of pain any minute now. But when he felt a cold almost tender feather like touch on his cheek, he opened his eyes in wonder. Had he been wrong?

But as soon as he had voiced the thought in his head Voldemort brought his hand up and smacked the teen so hard on the same cheek he had caressed that Harry flew on his left side. Green eyes widened and a small delicate hand went for the reddened cheek.

Voldemort had physically abused Harry before so this shouldn't be anything new but Harry's instincts told him that this was something entirely different. He knew a small slap on his cheek would be a beginning of something dreadful.

Voldemort smirked cruelly and Harry could only stare him in a fear-like wonder.

In a blink of an eye, Voldemort had the teen pinned on the soft bed sheets.

The cold and strong grip on his both wrists gave Harry the ability to move again. Immediately he began trashing under the older wizard but the only result was Voldemorts cruel high pitched laugh.

"The more you struggle the harder you will get punished!"

"No! Get off me! You have no right-" Harry stopped his struggle while he yelled his disagreement.

"No right? NO RIGHT?" Voldemort bellowed interrupting the teen.

The Dark Lord brought his face close to Harry's and his other hand grabbed Harry's throat in a firm grip. He hissed deathly in the teen's ear: "I have every right to do anything I want to you. I _own_ you."

Harry shivered in fright and wanted nothing more than continue his struggle and get away from the man but he knew he couldn't get Voldemort off of him for the mad man was stronger than him so he decided to keep Voldemort speaking.

"You have no claim over me," Harry hissed back, hoping he sounded threatening even though he was scared as hell.

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed a bit and his lipless mouth twisted into a cruel smirk.

"_My sweet little Harry_ but I already have," Voldemort said and his other hand released Harry's wrists and touched the scar on Harry's face. The grip on the teens throat lessened a little and a thumb started to caress Harry's throat.

The green eyes widened at the words and even more so when he felt the almost tender caress on his throat.

Harry wanted to argue back but had no chance to speak when the hand on his throat suddenly squeezed which made the teen struggle again against the choking feeling he felt. As his hands were now free, the green-eyed wizard grabbed Voldemort's hand and tried to pray it off.

It seemed to have no effect at all because the Dark Lord continued his monologue.

"Does this hurt, Harry? I could kill you in a blink of an eye and you couldn't do anything about it," Voldemort taunted.

The grip on the younger wizard's throat loosened as Voldemort brought his face closer to Harry's and then suddenly his cheek was against the teens and Harry could feel cold lipless mouth place little kisses on the side of his neck. Voldemort's other hand from Harry's scar slipped behind the boy's head and gripped Harry's scalp firmly. Harry's heart skipped a beat and his breath became ragged. What was Voldemort doing? _How could the man go from furious to...to this?_ Harry thought panicly.

Suddenly Voldemort crashed their lips together and Harry would have yelped in surprise fear if the man's hands hadn't squeezed his throat so hard that he couldn't breath! He started to struggle under the bigger body and he hit Voldemort everywhere he could but the man just wouldn't budge.

Voldemort ended the brutal kiss and drew his head back so he could look at the green horror filled eyes. The grip on Harry's throat still remained though, making breathing very hard for the petite teen.

"Why do you have to make everything so difficult?" The Dark Lord said in a small voice as he watched the struggling teen's face in fascination.

Harry couldn't hear the question. He was dying. Why wasn't the house doing anything? It was supposed to prevent any killing attempts between the two occupants.

Harry couldn't breath and his eyes started to water. He clawed desperately the hands on his throat. His mind screamed _air! _Harry was starting to see white dots on his sight as the pressure on his throat was becoming unbearable.

"Look at me Harry," Voldemort abruptly hissed furiously. He lightened his grip on the teens throat so the petite wizard could have some air.

Harry could distantly hear Voldemort say something. Suddenly the young Gryffindor felt air invading his lungs. It wasn't much but the white dots left his sight and he felt a moment of relief when he heard Voldemort speaking.

"_Look at me!_" the Dark Lord demanded again. Harry's pain filled gaze locked at the red eyes.

"You have always had such a pretty eyes Harry," Voldemort suddenly said in a less furious voice. Then he placed a small kiss on the teen's rosy lips.

"Your eyes are the only good thing you inherited from you mudblooded bitch of a mother."

The words made Harry saw red and he started his struggle again but a hard squeeze on his throat ended it soon enough.

"You disobeyed me, Harry. You do understand why I must punish you?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but another squeeze on his throat closed his mouth.

"Hush child," Voldemort shushed almost gently and then pecked the boys lips.

Suddenly Harry could see the insane glint back in Voldemort's eyes. "You left the house without my permission and you took _my_ paddle."

The Dark Lord's grip on the milky throat hardened again making Harry's breath ragged.

"_No..._" Harry could make a one word form on his lips even though it was said in a weak voice.

"Did I allow you to speak?" Voldemort's rage was back in full blow and this time his grip on the teen's throat was so hard that Harry knew he had only seconds left to live.

"Why do you make everything so difficult for yourself? Why do you have to be such a foolish Gryffindor and break my rules!"

Harry started to make weird gurgling noises, he started to see black and his eyes started to spin on his head but Voldemort couldn't see this. His eyes were full of madness and darkness and his rage was quickly consuming the air of the room.

"Can't you see Harry I'm only trying to protect you!" Voldemort's voice was quivering a bit as he yelled this in a furious tone but there was a hint of desperation in it.

Next Voldemort grinned in a twisted way and his voice hardened again. "_As your punishment you_ _will never leave this bed! I will chain you onto it for the rest of our trip and when we get back into our world I'll take you and lock you into-"_

Voldemort's words were cut off when a flicker could be felt on the room's walls and suddenly Voldemort was violently thrown off on the boy by an invisible force.

The moment Voldemort's deathly grip left Harry, the teen gasped air as much as he could. His throat was burning and his chest felt like it was on fire. Harry didn't know with what strength he used to hoist himself up from the bed and run through the front door into the night.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know it's short. The original chapter was at least thrice this long but I decided to cut it because there were parts I couldn't finish because every time I started to write them, my mind hit blank. And so that you shouldn't wait for another year, I decided that I will give you this as a chapter 8 (although it's the beginning of chap 8) so that I could tell everyone that I'm still alive and have not abandoned this story.

**And now for the important part:** I wanted to make this scene where Voldemort discovers Harry's disobedience (which was very hard to write for some reason) so that you could understand that Voldemort is actually insane. The first idea for this scene was more brutal and would have given huge traumas to Harry (which just wouldn't do) so I ended up writing this scene. I hope it gave you the right idea of Voldemort's mind.

Anyway, I try to post the next chapter in a few days...lets hope I succeed.


	9. Such A Horrible Night

Wow, I was totally astonished by the ammount of reviews, positively so :D So, thanks for all who reviewed or added this on alert/fav list. I love to read your reviews so I hope you write them in the future too. Anyway, here is the newest chapter, enjoy.

Beta'ed by Syncopal

* * *

**9. Such A Horrible Night**

Harry ran through shadowed alleys, passing shady people and taverns. He didn't know where he was going nor did he care. He only wanted to run as far away from the Red House and from Voldemort as possible. Only after his lungs were burning from the running, he stopped. He tumbled down on his knees, tears flowing down his pale cheeks.

The teen brought his hand on his face and felt the wetness. Why was he crying? Was he so frightened of Voldemort's behavior? He wanted to convince himself it wasn't a surprise how Voldemort acted...but he couldn't fool himself. The past days Voldemort had acted so civil and sometimes Harry had even enjoyed the Dark Lord's company… It had been so easy to forget what was beneath all of that.

He had been aware that the Dark Lord didn't have a stable mind and that said man was a violent, sadistic dark wizard. So then why did he feel so betrayed?

_'Because you started to feel safe around Voldemort. But he didn't keep you safe this time, did he? He cannot save you from himself_', the small voice whispered in Harry's mind.

"Shut up!" Harry yelled angrily at the voice.

'_What are you yelling at? I'm only stating the truth. You trusted him and he betrayed your trust. Now you think you can never go back to the house again!_'

"I said shut up and leave me alone!" Harry roared furiously at the voice. It felt so much better to feel anger than fear and betrayal.

The voice stayed quiet this time but it only brought back the unwanted feelings. Why had he ever thought that Voldemort had changed somehow? He was still the same murderous snake-face with violent tendencies. How Harry had ever thought that Voldemort would keep him safe was beyond him. Besides, why had he thought that in the first place? He didn't need Voldemort as his guardian angel or something. He was perfectly capable of handling himself.

But no matter how many times he tried to assure himself, he still felt betrayal and even horror towards the punishment Voldemort had intended to give him.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting on the ground and now the coldness forced him to stand up and pay attention to his surroundings. He had to find a warm place, preferably somewhere safe from Voldemort. Where he was now, was far from his requirements. The alley was the same as all the other alleys in the city—dark, dirty and somewhere you didn't want to get lost in the middle of the night. Suddenly, a hand dropped on his left shoulder which made Harry jump in the air and a rather girly sound got out of his mouth.

"Are you lost, young man?" A pleasant sounding voice came. Harry turned around when he realized that it wasn't Voldemort who had found him.

A man in his early 40's stood before the petite teen. He had a nice friendly face with copper hair and a few laugh wrinkles on the corners of his mouth. He wore a worn out jacket and equally worn out pants. When Harry didn't answer the man came closer.

He lifted his hand and wiped the tears from Harry's cheeks.

"Has something happened?" the man asked in a voice full of concern.

Harry took a step back, out of the man's reach and shook his head.

"Come now, don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you. This is not a place for a youngster like you," the friendly stranger said in scolding tone.

"I...I'm fine," Harry almost whispered. He knew he should go. Even if the man seemed like a harmless middle aged man, who knew what was really behind the friendly face. He should really go...so why weren't his feet moving?

"You should better go somewhere warm. You will catch a cold if you stand here in your wet clothes..." the man started. Harry hadn't even noticed when the rain had started or his soaked clothes or that the rain had stopped and only a few drop landed on his face every now and then.

The stranger quickly glanced over his shoulder. He extended his hand. "Do you want to come with me? I live only a few blocks from here," the man smiled. When Harry didn't answer, the stranger continued. "I have a few kids of my own, you know." He placed a hand under his jacket and took something from it. Harry let a small relieved sigh, when the man took out of a French baguette. *

"My daughter, Martha, has a bad habit of getting hungry at night. But luckily my friend Simon has a baker and he often leaves bread for my Martha in the evenings."

"Oh..." was all that Harry said and he let himself relax a little. The man didn't seem so bad after all… And although he couldn't help but notice that something was screaming warnings at him in the back of his mind, he didn't want to pay attention to it so he ignored it as best as he could.

"What do you say if we enjoy this bread with Martha together?"

Harry frowned a little when he thought of the man's offer. He was rather cold and a bit hungry. It wouldn't be so bad if he left with this man...after all no one was as cruel and evil as Voldemort. And to him, Harry would never return.

"My home isn't the prettiest or the biggest place to live but it's a cozy place to stay," the man continued his persuasion when he saw a light frown on the beautiful teen's face. A howling wind blew through Harry's pajamas and he shivered. Yes, maybe it was for the best to go with the man.

Harry let a small smile slip onto his lips. "Okay, I can come with you."

The man answered with a wide smile of his own. "Excellent! Martha will surely be gladdened by your presence. We don't get visited by many guests you see." The man offered his hand again and this time Harry grabbed on it. They walked side by side and every now and then the man smiled down at Harry.

"How old is your daughter?" Harry broke the silence.

"Ten years old," the answer was immediate.

It was midnight so Harry wondered why a ten-year-old girl was still up. The green-eyed teen slowed his steps thinking going with a stranger wasn't such a good idea after all, but when the man noticed this, the grip on Harry's hand tightened and the man hastened his space, dragging Harry with him.

"My apologies but I haven't even introduced myself yet," the copper haired man said hastily. "I'm Jack."

"Harry," the young wizard said shortly. "I have changed my mind after all. I should go home", Harry continued. He couldn't ignore the voice in his head shouting at him _'You fool! Get away from him! Now!'_

"It would be very irresponsible of me if I let a child like you run around in a dangerous town in the middle of the night." Jack quickly glanced at Harry. At the same time the grip on Harry's hand tightened almost painfully.

Harry started to struggle. "I very appreciate your offer but I changed my mind! I want to go home—now!" Harry half yelled. The man stopped. His friendly demeanor was gone and the friendly smile was replaced by a nasty smirk. He had reached his destination.

"Shut up brat," he snarled. "I have a nice surprise for you."

They were standing in a shady looking alley which was surrounded by poorly built buildings. It really looked like some kind of a slum. Suddenly a door opened on their left and the light coming through the door lit the alley a bit.

A bald bulky man stood on the doorway. He wore plain cotton shirt and pants. He didn't have shoes on. When Harry saw the man he thought he was saved. "Please, help-" Harry started but was cut off by the bald man.

"Took you long enough." The bulky man looked at Jack.

"My apologies, but something came up," Jack answered shortly. "But," he pushed Harry closer to the man on the door way, "I brought us some entertainment."

There were two equally nasty grins that made Harry shiver in fear. When the bulky man stepped in front of Harry and grabbed him by the arm, something shifted inside the teen. No, Harry thought. Whatever these men had in store for him, he would not just sit and cry like some helpless child who was consumed by his fear. These two shady looking men were nothing compared to Voldemort.

The bulky man who had grabbed Harry pushed the teen inside the house through an open door. Harry fell hard on his stomach on the dirty floor. He quickly pushed himself up and watched with hate filled eyes as the two men came into the house, closing the door behind them.

"This one sure is pretty," the bulky man said and gave a small lecherous laugh. "You have exceeded yourself this time Jack."

"I know Ben," Jack respond as his eyes drunk everything about the boy before them. "I was so lucky that I ran into this little flower. Right, Harry?"

The men were approaching the green-eyed teen. Every step they took forward, Harry took backward.

Ben licked his lips as if he was soon to consume a fine meal. Harry's lips turned up in a sneer of disgust. There was no doubt what these two men were going to do to him. But no matter, these two men were muggles, Harry was not.

"Come now, Harry. Let's play a little game together," Jack said in a sing song voice as he neared the small teen like a predator at night.

"Fuck you," Harry spat like an angry snake.

"No, little boy, it's the other way around," Ben said, his rotten teeth showing. Like in silent agreement, the two men lunged at the teen, ready to have him in their dirty clutches.

Harry was prepared and when the both men lunched towards him, he crouched down and put his hand on the floor. As soon as his palm touched the dirty floor he felt the spell unravel into the floor. In less than a second it hit Jack from under and Harry grinned deviously when Jack flew through the room and landed harshly on the floor in front of the door.

Watching Jack had cost Harry his attention and the teen let out a yelp of surprise when he was suddenly pushed hard against the wall behind him. He hit his head and for a moment he saw stars but soon his vision cleared and he was ready to attack. His eyes met a furious brown ones and he hadn't even noticed how Ben had lifted him from the floor and pinned him against the wall.

"We had a plan to make this pleasant for you but after your little hocus pocus trick, I'm not sure if I want to be nice anymore!" Ben yelled in Harry's face and the teen closed his eyes in disgust when spit flew from the man's mouth as he spoke.

Before Ben was able to carry out his nasty plan, Harry brought his hand on the man's chest and released as much power as he could. In a blink of an eye Ben's eyes filled with horror and pain when a shock of electricity ran through his chest up to his head. He yelled in agony and his grip on Harry loosened, letting the boy escape.

When Ben fell on the ground, his hands grabbing his head, Harry spurted to the door. When he got a hold of the door handle he felt a small sense of triumph flowering in his chest, but it soon vanished when something hit his head, making him collapse on the floor.

"Don't think you can escape you little witch!" Jack snarled and let out a nasty laugh.

If it hadn't been clear to Harry what these two were about to do to him, it was now when Jack crouched beside Harry and put his hand on his pajama pants. Harry's head was aching terribly and he was still seeing stars when he noticed what Jack was doing to him. Harry started to wiggle but Jack quickly sat on top of Harry so the teen couldn't move much. At least Harry's attacker took his hand out from Harry's pants which he used to pin the teen's hands on the floor.

Soon enough Ben came groaning from the floor and sat beside Jack.

"I have no idea what this kid did to me, but something isn't right about him," Ben said, his voice was laced with a hint of fear.

Jack turned to look at Ben. "Don't be a pussy. He's just a kid. Besides, the thing he did to you and to me is all the more reason for us to play with him."

Harry heard everything they said and his fear grew in lengths when Ben agreed with Jack.

"If I hold his hands then he can't use his weird powers," Jack stated and Ben only grunted as an answer.

Harry's heart raised and his eyes begin to moist when he felt Ben starting to pull down his pants.

"No matter if you are a bit unnatural, you are the most beautiful child I have ever seen," Jack murmured in a soft voice. "Maybe we won't kill you after this as we usually do but keep you to ourselves," Jack brought his head closer to Harry's and sniffed his hair. "You should consider yourself lucky."

Ben had managed to pull off the pants and was now stroking Harry's legs.

"He has such milky skin," Ben said and he gulped as if he was about to eat something delicious.

Harry started to cry silently. "Please, just let me go." His mind was screaming Tom! Help me! Please!

"Shh, Harry. If you are a good boy we can make the second time pleasurable for you but now, because of your little stunt before, we have to punish you."

Harry shivered in fear and disgust when he felt Ben starting to lick his legs. He tried to kick but didn't have enough strength and his head was still hurting from the earlier impact.

_ I don't need my hands to use my core magic_, Harry thought desperately. So he gathered all the magic he was able and when he was ready to release the power, suddenly the magic gathered back into a tight ball in his core.

_How? What is happening? Why can't I release my magic?_ Harry thought in panic and growing terror. Harry tried again but nothing happened. He couldn't have reached his limitation because he still felt the magic within him, ready to be used but it was like someone had cut his access to it.

_No, no, no! Tom!_ His mind screamed desperately when he felt a hand touching his member and Jacks lips on his neck.

Both of his attackers stopped suddenly when there was a loud bang. Harry turned his head and saw behind his flowing tears the front door laying on the floor in pieces. The raven haired youth hadn't ever felt as happy as when Voldemort's figure entered the house with wand raised and his eyes blazing red with fury. This time the fury wasn't directed towards Harry but to the two men who were still hovering on top of the teen, their expressions that of horror and surprise.

One flick of Voldemort's wand and the two men were thrown at the opposite wall.

Harry tried as quickly as possible to gather his pants and put them on but it wasn't happening quite fast because he had a mild concussion and he was still crying from the shock. Harry didn't see what Voldemort did to Ben and Jack but it must have been painful because the two men were screaming in agony. Harry curled himself up and tried to stop crying but he just couldn't stop! And he couldn't stop the shivering either. He just could think about what would have happened if Voldemort hadn't come.

The screams stopped and Harry could feel someone crouch in front of him.

"Harry," the gentle yet firm voice came.

The petite wizard wearily raised his head and when his eyes locked with red ones he couldn't stop the feelings that hit him full force.

"Tom!" the teen yelped and jumped into Voldemort. If Harry would have been in a better state of mind he would have noticed how the snake-faced wizard tensed momentarily when Harry called him his muggle name.

But when Harry draped his arms around Voldemort's shoulders, he relaxed again and stood up. Harry instinctively folded his legs around Voldemort's torso. He couldn't help but feel so relieved, safe and comfortable when he felt the Dark Lord's arms holding him strongly, securely, and a bit possessively.

For now, Harry could forget why he had left the Red House in the first place. The most important thing was that he was back in Voldemort's arms.

"Shh, Harry. Everything is fine now. You are safe," Voldemort murmured as he felt the teen's tears wet his cloak. The Dark Lord started to walk towards the Red House leaving the gloomy slum slowly behind them.

"I...I can't understand...I..." Harry sniffed and tried to stop crying at the same time his grip tightened on Voldemort's neck. But because of some infuriating reason his body kept shivering and his tears kept flowing freely.

Voldemort was silent and let Harry try to say what was bothering him.

The teen drew in a slow and deep breath. He tried to clear his thoughts but the scene in the shack kept playing in his mind. In a way, he just wanted to be quiet and curl somewhere warm and dark and be alone without talking about what had happened. But in another way he had the urge to tell Voldemort what had happened and why his magic didn't react when he needed it most.

The urge to tell won over keeping silent.

"My magic...I don't understand..." Harry started with a shaky voice. A comforting hand began to stroke his back to encourage him.

"My magic worked first against them, but then when I needed it the most it failed me...I felt the magic, it was there ready to be used, but when I tried to use it, it just pulled back into my core...I don't understand...why? I put so much power into it, it was supposed to blast them both into oblivion...I...I was so scared, I have never felt so helpless before," Harry let it all out in one breath. Then he buried his head into Voldemort's shoulder.

"You were in shock Harry," the older wizard began slowly, like he was carefully thinking of what to say. "In your state of shock, you were trying to release too much power in one go, that it simply got stuck in your bound core. Imagine your magical core as a room. Then imagine a doorway from that room. In this case, your core is in the room and because it's bound, the only exit for your magic is from the doorway. So, when you released a massive blast of energy, it was too much for the doorway. It was like then people trying to get out of the room... When the magic realized that it couldn't get out, it pulled back into your core."

Harry was silent for a moment. He had stopped his crying while he listened to Voldemort's explanation.

"Would it have happened if my core hadn't been bound?" the teen asked quietly.

"No. There wouldn't have been anything to block your magic so it would have been free to flow," Voldemort sighed.

"I hate this," Harry said bitterly. "I hate my situation and I hate our kidnapper who obviously thought that it would be so fucking fun to bind my magical core."

"She will face the consequences of kidnapping us," Voldemort said, not elaborating more. Harry knew the Dark Lord had something very nasty in store for their abductor before killing her. For Harry was sure that Voldemort wouldn't let her live after what she did to them, although the green-eyed teen wasn't so sure if Voldemort was powerful enough to defeat the Boss.

While Harry was thinking about what Voldemort said his tired green eyes were trailing the alleyway behind Voldemort's shoulders. Something suddenly came to his mind.

"How did you find me?" He hadn't had the clue where he had been. Maybe Voldemort had used the _point me_ charm?

"Because of our connection I can find you in a matter of seconds," Voldemort said shortly.

Harry pondered this a bit and then realized something when Voldemort mention their weird connection. "My scar...it doesn't hurt anymore when you are near me or when we are touching," Harry said with a small wonder in his voice.

"Must be the effects of the house," Voldemort answered simply.

When Voldemort stopped, Harry lifted up his head and noticed that they were in front of the Red House. He was glad they were finally at the house because their conversation had been quite awkward. It wasn't a surprise, really, considering what had happened between them and what might have happened to Harry if Voldemort hadn't come after him.

With a flick of his hand, the red-eyed wizard dried Harry's pajamas. His own clothes were dry for he had charmed his clothes rain-free after leaving the Red House.

Voldemort opened the door to the house and marched directly to his bedroom.

Harry was put down on the huge bed. He was too tired to think of why Voldemort had brought him to his room and not into Harry's little alcove. He crawled clumsily under the huge blanket while Voldemort went to put his cloak away in the hall. Soon enough, Harry felt the mattress move. The teen had moved to the end of the bed's other side. His eyes were closed but he opened them when he heard Voldemort's quiet voice.

"Harry," Voldemort said. There was some weird tone in the voice that made Harry turn and face the snakelike man.

Red eyes were looking intently at green ones.

"I...I am sorry," Voldemort finally said.

Harry's eyes widened so comically that the Dark Lord would have laughed if he hadn't had more to say;

"I might have over-reacted...a bit, when I realized that you had disobeyed me, leaving the house and taking my paddle." At the last words Voldemort looked pointedly at Harry.

The smaller wizard couldn't believe his ears. Voldemort had apologized! Harry doubted the Dark Lord had ever apologized before. He would have said something but he was so flabbergasted that he could only stare wide eyed, his mouth open a little.

"But so that we could prevent this kind of situations in the future, you will consider your actions more carefully and I suggest that you do as you are told," Voldemort said, his eyes narrowed and with a hint of danger in his voice. Then the older wizard turned his back to the teenager and pulled the blanket over him and began to sleep.

Harry stared at Voldemort's unmoving back for a moment. It was irritating how Voldemort just had to add the warnings but when the teen moved from his side to lie on his back, he couldn't help but form a small amused smile on his lips as he closed his eyes.

* * *

The next morning Harry didn't mention anything about yesterday's happenings and he was grateful that Voldemort didn't either. The teen only wanted to forget how he was almost raped by two strangers and he didn't want any notification of Voldemort's deepening madness.

They ate breakfast which was surprisingly made by Voldemort. Soon after, the Dark Lord declared that today's schedule was training. Harry was quite happy that he would have something else on his mind and that they could finally move forward on their mission.

They stopped in the middle of the woods where Voldemort decided to have a nice training space. Out of thin air he created a wooden dummy which was the size of Harry.

"Let's see your limitations in magic. Start with something easy," Voldemort said as he folded his arms on his chest in a manner as if he wanted to taunt Harry to show him what he was able to do without a wand.

Harry mentally scoffed as he turned towards the wooden dummy. He had no reason to show off to Voldemort. He wasn't quite sure if there even was anything to show off. But he was eager to find out what he was able to do. He knew already that he could make people lift in the air and shocks them, but the latter had been made in a panicked stated so he wanted to know what his were limitations when he had himself under control.

The green-eyed teen turned his attention to the dummy. His target was still, as if waiting for the blow to come.

"Ready?" Voldemort's voice carried to Harry's ears. He nodded and took a better stance on the ground. Suddenly the dummy started to move and it first took a couple of shaky steps until it rushed towards Harry, its hands waving recklessly by its sides.

He already knew what he was going to try out first. As the dummy came closer, Harry prepared to strike. When the dummy got a bit closer to Harry, he knew it was time for action. The teen sent a pale blue light towards the dummy. It hit straight through its chest and threw the dummy 10 meters away from him. That had been easy spell. Harry didn't feel any exhaustion from it.

"Banishing charm?" Voldemort asked.

"Yeah," Harry answered shortly, not taking his eyes off from the fallen dummy.

"Such a weak spell. Do it again. This time put more power in to it. Be more aggressive!"

Harry gave a quick scowl at Voldemort's direction. Of course, it wasn't enough that the spell worked. It had to be more aggressive. No doubt the Dark Lord wanted to see the dummy in pieces at some point. The rest of the evening Voldemort instructed Harry to practice every spell he had been taught in Hogwarts.

Harry mainly used light spells. They were easy to cast and didn't take much energy. Every now and then Harry could hear Voldemort mutter to himself of how weak Harry's spells were, but the teen didn't let him spoil his training. Though, the young Gryffindor was a bit disappointed. He had thought Voldemort would actually teach him something useful.

When Harry sent a well-aimed tickling charm on the dummy making it fall on the ground and squirm exuberantly, Voldemort came next to the teen and slapped him on his head.

"Don't you know anything else than these unhelpful children's spells? Do you think these will stop your enemies?" the older wizard taunted.

Harry's green eyes narrowed a bit. "These so called children's spells have stopped your Death Eaters more than once!"

"Is that so?" Voldemort's eye twisted and he looked like he wanted to crucio the brat in front of him but he restrained his anger.

"Oh, very so!" the teen hissed through his teeth. "Besides, aren't we supposed to find out the limitations of my bound core? Shouldn't you teach me?" Harry added. "You have done nothing but ogled like a retarded owl and whined of my supposed weakness!"

Voldemort shot a murderous look at Harry, no doubt thinking what kind of lesson he should give the teen for calling the Dark Lord a retarded owl. But then his facial expression changed into a smirk. "If only you would realize how weak you really are. This would be so much easier if you stayed in the house safe and sound while I did the work that needs to be done."

Green eyes became enflamed with rage and Harry was sure he would launch himself from the ground any minute now and throttle Voldemort.

The older wizard folded his arms over his chest and turned his back on Harry. "Do the cutting curse," he simply said.

The raven haired youth faced the wooden dummy and cast a cutting curse at it- there was only one problem; nothing happened. He tried again. This time he put more power into the spell but still nothing. He couldn't even feel the power on his palm.

Harry furrowed his brows in irritation but at the same time he couldn't be without a small worry. Had he come to face his limitation? Was he able to do only a couple of useless spells? No...He wouldn't give up; he needed to put more power into the spell and power he would give.

The next ten minutes were spent on an unsuccessful cutting curse. When Harry had tried to cut the wooden doll for the thirtieth time and nothing had yet to happen, he bowed his head in shame and defeat.

"Pathetic," the sharp hiss came from behind the raven haired wizard which startled Harry. He had almost forgotten the older man for he had been unnaturally quiet the whole time. Harry faced Voldemort with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'm ashamed a boy like you was able to defeat me as a mere baby. You are nothing, absolutely nothing," the most feared Dark Lord narrowed his eyes in a hateful manner.

Harry knew he shouldn't feel so beaten by Voldemort's words. It was not his fault that his magical core was bound. There was no rule that core bound wizards should be able to cast a cutting curse and if they didn't then they were weak and useless. His condition could have happened to Voldemort too. And then the Dark Lord would be the one who would be able to cast only housework charms. Would Voldemort blame himself for being weak in that kind of condition? Harry doubted it.

He knew he shouldn't take Voldemort's words so seriously but when he could actually hear a hint of disappointment in Voldemort's voice, it made Harry feel awful. It made him feel that he had somehow betrayed Voldemort. He knew it was silly to feel like that, but he couldn't help his feelings, no matter what his mind told him.

"You can't even cast a simple cutting curse. I don't have time to babysit you so why don't you just give up and do as you are told," Voldemort jeered.

The disappointment was gone from Voldemort's voice. Now the tone was full of venom and scorn. Harry lifted his gaze from the ground. Why did he let Voldemort make him feel like he was the crap of the world? He knew he was not weak, he couldn't be—he refused to be weak! So he gritted his teeth and decided to show Voldemort.

He turned towards the dummy, and he imagined Voldemort standing there instead. He put as much power, rage and hate into the spell as he could and sent it towards the moving wooden dummy. The moment the spell left his right hand, he felt how the spell had sucked all the power from him and the next thing he knew was darkness.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes and the first thing he saw were red eyes staring back at him. He blinked a few times and noticed that he was lying on the ground, his head resting on Voldemort's lap. He was too tired to think about his position. He had never felt this weak. His muscles were aching and he felt like he had a high fever.

"What happened?" Harry asked in a rough voice.

Voldemort stroked the teen's silky black hair. "You fainted. At least now we know the limitations of your power." Voldemort looked at his right. Harry followed his gaze and saw what was left from the wooden dummy. It seemed like his cutting curse had totally splintered the dummy in thousands of pieces.

It was great to know he could cast something more useful than just housework charms. But the dark side of the thing was that he had actually fainted from performing a simple cutting curse. Harry sighed.

"How long was I out?"

"Five minutes." Voldemort stood up and scooped the teen from the ground.

"I think this is enough for the day. Let's go back." He started to walk, the teen in his clutches.

"Hey! I can walk. Put me down!" Harry roared.

Voldemort put a smug smirk on his face.

"Oh?" He dropped Harry onto his feet. The moment the teen got his feet on the ground he fell on his arse.

"Oh yes, you are clearly able to walk by yourself. Now, be a good boy and let me carry you."

Harry glared at Voldemort but said nothing more. While Harry pouted, his arms folded over his chest, Voldemort grabbed the teen, holding him bridal style in his arms.

"I don't think you are weak Harry," Voldemort said after a silent walk through the forest. The green eyed wizard raised his brows in surprise. "Oh?"

Voldemort glanced at the raven haired beauty in his arms. The left corner of his non-existent lip turned up in an amused smile. "I only said those things to rile you up. It seems that you need an emotional boost to cast spells that are intended to hurt."

Harry quickly caught onto what Voldemort meant. "So it's the same as performing an Unforgivable? I have to mean to hurt someone."

Voldemort nodded approvingly. "Exactly."

Harry had no idea how the Dark Lord had come to this conclusion and he didn't really care either, but there was one thing that bothered him.

"Why is it like that? Why am I able to perform simple non-harming spells without a sweat but need so much energy to cast a hurtful one? Besides, I've been able to cast cutting curse before without breaking a sweat."

Voldemort pondered this for a while. "Maybe it is just a nature of the block on your core. Maybe someone who put it there in the first place, didn't want you to hurt anyone. Or maybe that someone is a total bitch and just wanted to hinder you in the worst possible way."

"That's very comforting," Harry replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. "But I can also hurt people with the wingardium leviosa spell, so isn't your theory proved wrong?"

"You obviously need a small lesson of magic's nature. Magic is not something that can be always thought of rationally. When someone invents a new spell, charm or curse, he always has a purpose for the spell which defines the spell. As an example, the levitation charm. Its first purpose was to help move objects from one place to another. Its inventor had never even thought to use the spell to hurt someone. So the charm was naturally categorized as a helping charm. Even the magic itself made it so. But it doesn't change the fact that you can use it to hurt someone."

"I see," Harry replied, although he wasn't sure if he quite understood.

* * *

A few days passed and to say that Harry was exhausted was an understatement. Voldemort made him practice spells and muscle exercises for six hours per day. There were days when Voldemort pushed Harry to the point of total exhaustion. On those days it ended with Harry passing out. Harry usually woke up after 5 minutes with a massive headache and a couple of times he had been out for cold for an hour.

Even if the training was hard and Voldemort was a strict teacher, Harry couldn't find it in him to complain much. Voldemort was an outstanding teacher. Harry could only listen in silence and wonder at the amount of Voldemort's magical knowledge.

The raven haired teen had learned more in a few days than he ever had in Hogwarts. Even if his core was bound, he had learned so much about his own magical abilities that it was insane. Harry had never even realized that he had an odd affinity for everything earthly. He had never stood out in herbology but he had never been the worst student either. Others wouldn't think of his new realization of himself anything grand but so many small things happened when training in the woods.

Like one day, when Voldemort had granted him a small break, Harry had sat down and leaned against a trunk of a tree. There was a dying flower next to him and he had a sudden thought, touching a withered petal while he imagined what the flower had looked like in its previous glory. In the blink of an eye, the flower had regained its health. The petals were once again bloody red and the stem was green and standing as straight as a new born flower.

First Harry had thought nothing of it but every time he entered to the forest it just seemed like the grass was greener and the trees looked so much better that he began to wonder what was this all about. And it wasn't just the plants or the nature.

Animals liked him also, at least the birds did. One day when he was ready to start his training in spells, a couple of small brown birds landed on his shoulder. He had stared at the birds like they were mad, and a then he had stared at Voldemort like he himself was mad and only imagining the birds on his shoulder, but when he saw Voldemort smirking in a weird way, he knew he wasn't imagining things.

That day, he also realized that Voldemort knew what was going on. The birds were always in the forest, sitting in a tree and watching Harry practice. Sometimes, when the two wizards had brought lunch with them, Harry fed the birds with small pieces of bread. He had tried to find out what this all meant but the Red house hadn't given him any noteworthy knowledge. So, one day, Harry inquired what Voldemort knew but he didn't tell him a thing. Harry was sure it had to be part of what he was and that Voldemort took great pleasure that Harry didn't know.

The most surprising was that Voldemort actually enjoyed the teaching. Harry couldn't miss the excited face that Voldemort made when teaching Harry new spells, or the deliberate actions he had to make for Harry to realize his mistakes. Harry would have never have thought to find such patience in the Dark Lord as he had when teaching the young green-eyed wizard. If Voldemort would have been given the chance to teach at Hogwarts, Harry was sure he would have been the most fantastic DADA teacher Hogwarts had ever known.

It was ironic how his worst enemy was now teaching him the skills that could one day be the end of him. But the more Voldemort taught him, the more Harry's opinion of the man changed. Speaking the truth, Harry wasn't so sure if he really wanted to kill Voldemort one day. Was the Dark Lord his enemy anymore? Voldemort didn't even consider him a threat, but maybe it was because the man didn't know the full prophecy?

But what baffled Harry the most was Voldemort's behavior. Sometimes the snake-faced bastard wanted to crucio him (which he surprisingly hadn't done yet) and sometimes the man was tender...in a very bizarre kind of way. All the pondering of how Voldemort's mind worked made Harry's head hurt. It also made him wonder and sometimes he started to negate everything about the light and dark he had thought previously. What if the dark was not so bad after all? Was it biased to think of everything in black and white? That light was good and dark was bad? Well, in defense of the light side, he had never seen Dumbledore torture people like Voldemort and his minions did.

Harry had to admit himself—as horrible as the realization had first been—that he liked Voldemort. He couldn't stop himself from admiring the older wizard. Yes, Voldemort had done horrible things and killed who knew how many people, including his parents, but the Dark Lord possessed amazing skills, magical abilities, and power.

When Harry was brave enough to admit his inner thoughts to himself he couldn't be without guilt. He thought of himself as a horrible person, like he had somehow betrayed so many people—his friends, Sirius, Lupin, Dumbledore and, most of all, his parents.

Was Voldemort's company making him insane? Because he admired his parents murderer for Merlin's sake!

After a long night of thinking, Harry came to conclusion that he should stop thinking of what others thought of him. He was in an extraordinary situation where he needed Voldemort and living with the mad man would have eventually brought anyone the same feelings towards him, especially when Voldemort could play so nice… Right? But no matter how Voldemort acted—the good way or the bad way—Harry had to remind himself that the Dark Lord was a psychopath so he always had to be on his toes when handling the man.

* * *

Two weeks after Harry's training had begun, Voldemort yelled through the Red house while Harry was in the living room doing his usual research on himself.

"Tomorrow we will seize the Assassin's Guild. I have finally found where those rats are hiding," Voldemort declared victoriously.

Harry lifted his gaze from "_The Animal in You_" and raised his brows a little.

"You think I'm ready? And what do you mean 'seize the guild'? Shouldn't we just find Glarence and take care of him?"

Voldemort strode from the hall to the couch and sat down besides Harry.

"You have been ready for a few days now," Voldemort answered the first question. "The guild is bustling with assassins, so there is only little hope that we find Glarence with the first try. It's easier if we go there and get rid of every assassin we see," Voldemort said and smirked in a very bloodthirsty way.

Harry only rolled his eyes.

"Right." He then went back to his book which was soon snatched from his hands.

"Hey!" Harry yelled as he watched Voldemort stand up with the book in his clutches.

"What kind of crap are you reading?" the Dark Lord asked.

Harry seethed on the sofa. "Give it back! It's a part of my research-"

He was interrupted when the older wizard started to cackle madly.

"Like this will give you any answers," Voldemort said between his cackle and then he tossed the book over his shoulder. Harry watched how "_The Animal in You_" flew against the wall, making a loud thud noise.

The teen stood and was about to scold the man when Voldemort grabbed Harry by his arm and started to lead him towards the bedroom.

"Besides, it's night time, so we are going to sleep," Voldemort said.

Harry could only stare at Voldemort when the older wizard yanked his outer robe off.

"Night time! The time is like...eight a clock or something," Harry answered, irritated.

"Maybe, but we have an early wakeup call tomorrow, so off to bed, young man," Voldemort said sternly and he gave a small push on Harry's back.

The raven haired teen only sighed and went to the bathroom where he changed into his pajamas and then brushed his teeth.

When he returned to the bedroom, Voldemort was already under the blanket. Harry sat down on the bed lifting the blanket so he could slip under it. When Harry put his head on his pillow Voldemort moved closer to him and curled his arm securely over Harry's waist.

After the near rape incident two weeks ago it had come of a habit for the teen to sleep in the same bed with Voldemort. First, it was a bit weird and it had made Harry blush when Voldemort had come close and put his arm around Harry's waist.

Soon, though, Harry got used to this and he had become to love the feeling of security and comfort that came with sleeping with Voldemort in the same bed. There were times when Harry had woken up and noticed, to his embarrassment, that he had been using Voldemort as his personal pillow.

"You are such a control freak," Harry scoffed and closed his eyes.

Voldemort only hummed and pressed his body closer.

After a while Harry had to open his eyes when he felt small movement on his hair and a small noise.

Harry abruptly turned his head so he was facing Voldemort's red eyes.

"Were you sniffing my hair?" Harry accused.

The Dark Lord's corner of his mouth lifted a little.

"Of course not. Now sleep, brat."

Harry glared back and then turned his head away from Voldemort and closed his eyes.

Harry heard a small chuckle and then felt like someone gave a small kiss on the top of his head. But he couldn't be sure because the touch was so light that he could have imagined it.

* * *

Voldemort cast _notice-me-not_ charm and a _silencing_ charm on himself and Harry. It would be relatively easy to sneak into the Assassin's Guild. After all, they were muggles—Voldemort and Harry had the huge advantage of magic on their side.

Harry thought about Garret's warning about Glarence. He had said that the assassin would be hard to catch even if they could use magic. So, it made Harry wonder what they really had against them? And why did their kidnapper want to so badly get rid of Glarence? The teen had tried to find a pattern in their missions but it seemed that their tasks had no connection at all.

Voldemort led Harry in a side way. It was even darker than the main street they had walked upon. The Dark Lord pulled out his wand and cast a non-verbal spell on the wall. In a second a hidden door opened before them.

"I don't even want to know how you found this," Harry said as he peered through the open door. Seemed like Voldemort had done very good job in his 'journey of inquires', as the older man preferred to call it.

"Naturally," came the cocky answer.

Voldemort snuck through the door, Harry right behind him. They had entered in a dark corridor where a few candles on the wall gave them only a little light.

"So, what's our first move?" Harry whispered, a bit nervous, as if bloodthirsty assassins would find them at any moment.

"What are you so anxious about, child?" Voldemort asked, amused and turned to look at the petite form behind him.

"It's a bit of a creepy place if you haven't noticed," Harry said as he glanced around them. The walls were bare (except the candles) and Harry couldn't really distinguish the color of it. In any case the walls were dark, dirty and creepy. Harry felt like he was walking in a haunted house.

"Oh? Would you rather wait outside? I have nothing against it," Voldemort suggested, voice hinting at malice.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and took more fearless stance.

"In your dreams," The teen's eyes narrowed as he was ready to argue with Voldemort. But to his surprise the older man just turned around and started along the corridor.

"Follow me them," came a bit of a scornful answer but Harry could hear a hint of amusement in the Dark Lord's voice.

"Point me Glarence Hermit," Voldemort said with his wand in his grasp.

As the wand started to spin and then stopped, pointing to the direction they were already heading, Voldemort spoke. "We find our target, I kill him and then we head home. You-" Voldemort gave Harry a pointed look. "-will stand somewhere where you are not in my way or a hindrance to me."

"So what was the point of training me if I just stand hiding in the corner?" Harry asked scornfully.

"It was for precaution. You never know what might happen, especially when it's about you. You have a bad habit of wandering about on your own and you are a magnet for the wrong kind of people."

_Yeah, **you** are a very good example of wrong kind of people_, Harry added in his mind as he frowned at Voldemort from beneath his hood. Even though it hurt to hear it from Voldemort's mouth, the snake-face did have some truth in his words. But it wasn't really Harry's fault. Trouble always found him, he couldn't help it.

They walked in silence along a corridor that lasted for ever in Harry's opinion. The Potter scion was mildly surprised that they had yet to run into any assassins. Harry was on the border of boredom after walking ages in corridor that had so many turns in left and right. They had gone up stairs, down stairs, and then there were some more turns, more stairs, more ominous looking stairways and badly lit corridors with ugly looking doors. Why was everything in this world so maze-like? It was like this town had been designed to make poor souls like Harry lose their way in the big labyrinth. If he somehow got separated from Voldemort he knew he would get lost in the house. How big could the hide out be? It obviously went deep underground and Harry didn't even want to start imagine what the doors hid behind them.

After a long walk they stopped in front of a huge wooden door. Voldemort opened it carefully and stalked inside where ever the door led them. Harry trailed right behind him.

It was a huge hall they entered and it wasn't empty. There were at least fifty dangerous looking assassins. All armed and they all stopped whatever they were doing when the two wizards had entered into the hall.

"Identify yourselves!" the nearest hulk-of a guy said in a raspy dangerous voice.

Harry stepped closer to Voldemort and whispered mildly concerned: "They see us?"

Voldemort had no time to answer when one of the assassins stood out and lowered his hood.

"Of course we can see you, wizards. We have dealt a lot of your kind of scum."

Harry's mouth went in a small 'O' when he peered at the person a couple of meters away from them. Sandy colored hair, dark brown eyes that were easily mistaken as black, a long scar from his temple to the right corner in his mouth, a cold and dead expression on his face that made the teen shiver in trepidation. Just a few steps in front of them stood Glarence Hermit, their task of this world.

* * *

* I wrote the scene about Jack taking the baguette from his jacket very seriously but when I read this chapter through for the first time and started fixing some parts, I just couldn't help and laugh at this scene. Anyway I decided to keep it as it is. Maybe you can find the same amusement in it as I did :D

Some responds to reviews:

_akuma-river_: You were right about Voldemort losing his grip on his rage. Voldemort cares about Harry and wants to protect him but because he's not used to show that kind of emotion (because he hasn't felt it before) he doesn't know how else to show it than giving orders and threats. He is used to that his orders are obeyed so when Harry is disobeying him it mades Voldemort angry. Because he is insane (and he has had free hands to show his rage in front of his followers) it's hard for him to contain his anger with Harry. Although he tries not to harm Harry, sometimes (like in the last chapter) he loses it.

Yeah, the dream is about Harry's powers which is related to what Harry actually is. And yes, the snake in the dream represents the Horcrux. And sorry about the typos, this chapter is beta read so there shouldn't be any typos anymore.

_Unimaginable_: there will be one world after this where Harry will still be clueless about what he is but he will learn more about his powers in that world. So it will be second world after this world (did that make sense?) that Harry will find out what he really is. I can't say how many chapters it will take but probably 5-6 chapters, then Harry will find out the mystery that revolves around him.

_CooCoobird_: I think that Voldemort is cool too :D My school is going fine, thank you for asking. But atm, I'm working because the next semesters starts at the end of next month. I've had days that I've been working for 14 hours (the horror) but I do have some days that I have more free time so I have more time to write. And of course I've got weekends off too.

_Miss C Riddle_: I'm glad you are still following this story and I'll do my best to update more often! :) My goal is to update once a week from now on but sometimes I just can't manage it...

_The Walrus I am_: I'm very happy that you think that way! I like myself reading stories that are original so of course I try to write something like that as well :)

_YGOGenerations4ever: _nope, Harry isn't a shape shifter but good guess!

_ChibiIchigo101:_ I value your grammar tips. Now, if only I could learn from them as well XD Anyway, I try to write less grammar mistakes on the next chapter.

For all others who reviewed: Nice to know that you really enjoy this story! Your lovely reviews inspire me to write more better and more often.

**Till next time!**


	10. Is It Wrong to Kill Them?

**11. Is It Wrong to Kill Them?**

_Beta'ed by Syncopal_

Harry was baffled...and worried. He had thought they had entered a magic-less world. So could the assassins see them? How could Voldemort's spells fail them? And more importantly, how had the assassins known about magic? About them being wizards?

Nobody had moved an inch. The assassins were observing them, ready to strike if one of the cloaked figures made a threatening move. The situation was still relatively safe—although there was a huge tension in the air that made Harry feel like he would suffocate in a minute if nobody made any moves soon –so in Harry's opinion it was now the best time to voice his questions.

Only he couldn't even open his mouth before Voldemort beat him at it.

"Glarence Hermit, I assume?" the Dark Lord said in a casual tone as he stared at the brown eyed man.

A small mocking grin appeared in Glarence's face and a slight move of his head confirmed Voldemort's assumption.

"Great," Voldemort said coldly. Then dozens of things happened at the same time so fast that only things Harry saw were Voldemort's killing curse flying towards Glarence and an invisible force taking a hold of the back of Harry's cloak and pulling him out of the hall into the badly lit corridor. The moment Harry's back hit the wall, the door to the hall slammed shut.

"NO!" the teen let out a furious growl when he realized that Voldemort had thrown him out of the room. Harry could hear the ongoing battle in the hall which made the teen stand up hurriedly and run for the door.

He put his hand on the door handle and whispered "alohomora." Nothing happened. The door remained closed. Harry gritted his teeth and this time he just used share power. He willed the door to open but still nothing.

Harry banged the door with both his fists. "You bastard! You can't shut me out! Let me in! Voldemort!"

A sudden bang on the door made Harry step backwards in a hope that Voldemort had come to a different thought and let him join the battle. But the door remained closed and Harry soon realized that the noise had come from something that had hit the door inside the hall.

The green-eyed teen could hear the battle behind the closed door. He could hear the assassins' battle cries as they attacked the dangerous wizard. He could hear Voldemort laughing cruelly when someone cried in pain.

This was not fair! How dare Voldemort push Harry out of the battle! The teen was so furious that he gathered so much magic to his palm that it almost hurt, and then released it towards the door, blowing the block off of it in mind.

For all Harry's frustration the door didn't even blacken from the blow. The raven haired wizard was so angry that he stomped his foot like a child and let a yell of irritation and rage.

He looked at the door like it had a personal grudge against him.

After a moment of staring daggers at the door Harry started pacing. Every now and then he glanced at the door and tried to imagine what was happening in the hall according to the rough noises and cries of pain he clearly heard.

"I'm sure you planned this the moment we stepped into that bloody hall," Harry spat and he wished from the bottom of his heart that Voldemort could hear him.

"I hate you, you snake-faced lunatic! I hope you rot—" he stopped abruptly when he felt a sudden shift in the air. He didn't know what had changed but he just knew he was not alone anymore. To confirm his suspicion two figures emerged from the shadows.

"Have you lost your way, little wizard?" one asked. They were both clothed in a dark hooded tunic with dark brown pants and black shoes. They were both the same height and both were hunched like predators ready to dart at their pray.

Assassins...Harry realized. He could practically taste the danger in the air. A sudden shiver of anticipation went through Harry's spine. He couldn't help the small grin appearing on his face.

"Why thank you for your concern, but I think I just found the way I was looking for..." Harry said as he readied himself for an attack. He was frustrated and angry. He needed to release his anger at something or someone so it was like a wish come true when the two assassins appeared.

As the pair closed their distance Harry took a step back. Not that he was afraid or anything but he wanted to keep the distance from the enemy. As far as Harry knew, the assassins were deathly in close combat except if they've got any knives with them which they could throw from a distance. But as Harry was more of a long distance fighter he didn't want to get too close to the pair.

The one on the right side suddenly jolted towards Harry. The green-eyed teen had been prepared and in defense, he released a small bolt of lightning. The assassin from the right dodged the spell while the one on the left took a knife from some hidden pocket and threw it at Harry.

Harry conjured a shield in front of him. When the dagger hit the air, Harry could see how the spell he cast earlier hit the wall behind the assassins and blew half of the wall into pieces.

Harry clicked his tongue in disappointment as his lightning bolt didn't damage anything but the harmless wall behind them. Well, it would have been too easy and disappointing if the assassins had died at the first spell thrown at them. The raven haired youth backed more quickly now. He dodged the daggers that were thrown at him and every now and then threw his own set of magic. This continued for a while—the assassins throwing daggers and Harry throwing explosive spells towards them. The teen was keeping his plan on moving backwards all the while. When one of the daggers almost caught Harry's head, the teen realized that this just wouldn't do. The corridor was too narrow. He didn't have enough space to attack properly. It was hard enough to avoid the daggers flying towards him. Besides, he was using quite powerful offensive magic which was going to drain him soon enough if he didn't finish the assassins off in a couple of minutes.

Harry cast a series of cutting curses and when the two assassins were busy avoiding them he aimed an explosion curse at the other assassin. The spell caught the unlucky assassin and hit him on his right arm. A huge explosion could be heard. Harry's attention went to the assassin who was now without an arm. The explosion had been so powerful that it had made the assassin collapse onto the ground. Harry was not sure if he died but the assassin was good as dead because if he was still alive but unconscious, he would still die of blood loss. In the moment of dwelling in his small victory, Harry didn't notice the other approaching on his right.

The green-eyed wizard hissed in pain when he felt the dagger sink into his side. Harry snarled and released a spell that was not anything but destructive magic. In a blink of an eye the assassin was on his knees. His whole body was shaking and it looked like small light blue bolts were travelling through his body. Harry panted and dropped on his arse in exhaustion. His back was resting against the cold brick wall. He brought his other hand on his damaged side to block the blood flowing from the wound. He willed his magic into a healing energy and released it in minor bursts into the wound. It wasn't much, but at least it took the pain away a little and the wound didn't bleed so much anymore.

After a mild healing session he brought his green eyes to the suffering assassin who was now on the ground dead. As Harry watched the two unmoving bodies, he realized that these were his first kills. Well, technically he had killed Quirrell in his first year but it hadn't really been his fault. He hadn't known that touching Quirrell aka Voldemort would kill the man and make Voldemort escape. And then he had killed Tom Riddle in his second year, but it didn't count either because Riddle had been a memory. And he hadn't really stabbed Riddle with the Basilisk's tooth. If someone wanted to count killing a diary as a 'real' kill then that person should seriously go get his head examined.

Harry hadn't much time to dwell on what he was feeling when his instincts kicked in. Someone was approaching and fast. He grit his teeth in pain as he rose from the ground.

"Bloody hell..." the raven haired youth cursed the pain on his side. As he waited for that someone to emerge in any minute now he suddenly realized that he was screwed. He had used too much of his magical energy and he didn't have enough strength to cast nothing more powerful than levitation charm. If the approaching someone was an assassins Harry knew he wouldn't have a chance against him. He was wounded and he could only do harmless spells...although he had practiced using levitation charm in harmful way, he doubted it was enough to defeat fast, dagger throwing assassin...unless...! A plan was starting to form in Harry's brain.

"Now, if only it worked..." Harry whispered to himself as he gazed intently along the corridor. He couldn't even count to ten when a figure emerged from the shadow. Another assassin was running towards him a small sword in his hand.

Harry threw a few blue spells towards his attacker. The assassin dodged them easily but this didn't bother Harry. The spells were only distraction. Even if they had hit the assassin they were so powerless that they wouldn't have done anything more than giving a small jolt.

As the assassin came nearer, Harry increased and fastened the pace of casting spells that were used as distraction. The assassin's speed slowed a little and Harry could tell that it was starting to be more difficult to dodge the spells. One even hit the assassin on his left leg. The assassin didn't even notice this – which was lucky for Harry because otherwise the assassin would have notice the spells were harmless and would have stop dodging them.

When the cloaked assassin was busy avoiding the blue streams of light going his way, Harry quickly brought his both hands on the ground and drew all of his magical power as he could muster from his bound core.

Now, it was vital that he released the power at the right time. The assassin had to be on the right distance from him so that the charm would hit him on the right spot. As the attacker jumped over one of the blue spell and then made a weird whirl of dodging another, Harry released the charm on the ground. His brows furrowed a little as he watched the charm going through the ground. It was barely noticeable so he didn't worry that the assassin would see what was coming towards him considering the attacker was distracted with the harmless spells that were still coming towards him.

The raven's only worry was that if this didn't work then he would be as good as dead.

Harry was crouched on the ground as his eyes followed the charm in tension. When the spell finally hit the assassin, Harry's eyes widened at the outcome. He had used the levitation charm to made people flew through the air so they would hit the ground hard and hopefully break something from the impact. Harry had hoped that the charm would have lifted the assassin in the air so fast and with such force that the assassin would have hit the roof and cracked his skull. But he would have never guessed that the levitation charm would travel through the assassin's body and then take impact on the said man's heart and lift it into the air through the assassin's mouth.

The moment the still bumping heart flew out from the man's mouth, the raven haired teen's own mouth dropped open and he watched his eyes full of amazement, disgust and sick fascination as the body collapsed onto the ground. The heart was still flowing in the air.

Harry had no idea how the flying organ was still bumping and he had no idea how long he had been staring at the heart until the realization of how sick the sight was before him made him threw up. There wasn't really much to puke because he hadn't eaten anything that day, so after a few seconds Harry wiped his mouth on his sleeve and brought his eyes at the flying organ. Except it wasn't flying any more. It had finally fallen from the air and was now lying on the floor as well as the dead assassin. A steady stream of blood was flowing through his open mouth and was quickly making a huge puddle on the floor.

Harry's heart was racing as he looked at the sight and at the same time he was desperately trying to listen if someone else was coming their way. When everything was silent and he was absolutely sure that nobody was approaching him, the teen sat down and finally felt the exhaustion wash over him.

The wound on his side started to throb painfully and his mouth was suddenly dry as he gazed the grotesque sight in front of him. It was not a pretty death, was it painless though? It didn't look like it but Harry couldn't really tell because he hadn't heard the assassin scream so maybe it was quick death and so that way painless? Why did it matter anyway?

But no matter what he thought and how the sight made him a bit squeeze and sick he couldn't bring himself to regret the three people's life he had took.

It was self-defense after all. It was either him or them. Yes, he did feel a bit hollow and he knew that Dumbledore would have never accepted killing. He could have stunned them or something equally harmless. But he had to admit to himself that when the assassin's attacked him, the stunning spell never even crossed his mind. At the beginning of the battle he was ready to harm them, to kill them. Harry knew that before this whole Red House fiasco he would have never used such harmful spells against opponents.

So what had changed in him so? What had made him to make the decision to kill these assassins? If Dumbledore would have been here, or Ron or Hermione... Harry stopped his thought.

That was it. Neither his friends nor the headmaster weren't here. Instead he had Voldemort and with the Dark Lord there were different rules. There was different influence. There was no one saying that killing was wrong, violence was wrong. Instead of that they were encouraged.

Harry hadn't realized then when they were training but now as he could look back his training with Voldemort, it was never about defense or the finding about his limit in using his bound core. Oh sure, they did have trained those too but the true matter was about power and about instincts of attacking when one was threatened. It was about drilling using brutal attacks and fearless attitude into his brain.

What was he feeling then? He was a murderer now. He had human blood in his hands. Was it shocking? Horrible? Wrong?

Yes, it was shocking and a bit horrible. But was it wrong? Maybe it was but killing those assassins didn't feel wrong. And if Harry was true to himself, he would kill them all over again. Well, maybe the last assassin would have gone in a different way because the heart breaking its way through one's mouth was...uh, a bit too surprising for Harry and...Well, let's just say that when Voldemort finds out, he will be proud of the methods the teen used. And if there was a matter that Voldemort would find proud in, then that matter was something very, very bad. Besides maybe he should stop thinking about what was wrong and what was right and just do what he needed to do to ensure his safety.

Something in Harry's heart said that he should trust his instincts. If it meant killing some assassins because the first spell to come to his mind was harming/deathly spell, then so be it. Besides he couldn't deny the thrill he had been feeling while battling against the assassins. He hadn't felt any tread which he had felt when they first entered the guild. When he had confronted the assassins he had felt alive (and angry, thanks to Voldemort) and then there had been the need to prove that he was not a helpless child, he was fully able to take care of himself and he was not some burden Voldemort had to carry with him.

If only the old snake-faced bastard would have been here to see what Harry had done. An involuntary grin appeared on Harry's lips. He stood up and looked around him. Maybe it was time to look for the older wizard.

* * *

Harry had checked the entire Assassin's Guild but it was empty. No sign of Glarence or Voldemort. Well, not a sign of anyone alive to be precise. It was easy for Harry to tell Voldemort had visited the assassins; nobody could miss the destruction the Dark Lord had left behind. There were bodies, blood and missing body parts he could find almost every other corridor or room he entered. It was quite weird that Voldemort had never strolled through the corridor where Harry had had a battle of his own.

After checking every room and corridor there was (or at least Harry thought he had checked everything but he couldn't be 100% sure because the place was just huge) he finally found his way back to the grand hall where the first battle had taken place. When the teen entered to the hall it looked like a tornado had paid them a visit. There were signs of battle everywhere. Tables were cut in half, chairs were shattered into pieces, there were broken plates and cups on the floor. Portraits on the walls were ruined completely. The whole room was colored by red; blood was everywhere which was the only evidence that it really was death that had visited the assassins and not an angry tornado.

It seemed like Voldemort had slaughtered every assassin who was unlucky enough to cross the Dark Lord's path. But if Voldemort killed everyone in the hall, then where were the bodies? Harry tried to gaze the huge room for any sign of corpses but there were none.

Weird...the green-eyed teen thought. Nevertheless, he didn't have time to give much thought to it because he really had to find Voldemort.

He sprinted to the nearest door (which wasn't easy because the wound on his right side was starting to really take a toll on him not to mention about the exhaustion he was feeling) and opened it carefully. You never knew if there still was someone alive...although he highly doubted it. Voldemort was not someone so careless who would leave the job undone. But you could never be too careful, especially in a house of assassins.

The scene in the room made Harry almost throw up again. He put his hand in front of his mouth and turned away. At least now he knew where the bodies were. It was really grotesque sight. The young wizard closed the door hurriedly and tried to forgot the pool of chopped, bloody, gutsy pile of assassins. Harry had no idea why Voldemort had cut them into pieces and then hid them in the small room. Only thing he could think was that it was quite sick and he should better forget the whole thing. One should never try to understand the mind of an insane Dark Lord.

Harry stood before the assassin's hideout weighting the two options he had left. Either he went back to the Red House and could only hope Voldemort would be there already and if he weren't then he could only wait for the man or he could start looking for the Dark Lord which would eventually get him lost in the alleys that reminded more of a labyrinth than routes in the town. It was rather amazing how he had find his way out of the assassin's guild so relatively easy. It was already a good hours after mid-day and the sun was still mercilessly scorching his back. He was thirsty, hungry, and in brink of collapsing because of the magical exhaustion and the poorly healed wound. So he decided that it was wisest thing to go back to the Red House...if only he could remember the way back.

Harry hadn't memorized which direction he and Voldemort came from. In other words he was screwed. He tried to cast "point me" to the Red House spell but without a wand it didn't work. He even tried it with a small rock he picked from the ground but it didn't work then either. Maybe it was because Harry just hadn't enough energy to cast the spell or it only worked with a wand.

The Potter scion lifted his hood and began to walk towards the nearest alley. But before he made it to the destination he planned, the teen noticed someone entering the square from another dark alleyway.

This was great! He could ask the person if he knew in which direction was the Fountain Square. If Harry found his way there, then he would find his way home.

The young Gryffindor run towards the stranger but abruptly stopped when he realized there was something familiar about the person.

"Lost are you?" The amused question came and then a lopsided grin.

"Garret?" Harry asked warily.

The man lifted his hands in the air like he had just entered the stage and was welcoming his audience. "The one and only."

This was not good, not good at all! How could Harry deal with this man without Voldemort? The teen was practically a squib at the moment. Garret had unknown powers and he worked for their kidnapper. The teen tried to gather a small amount of magic to his right palm. To his surprise he felt a small stream of magic flowing from his core to his palm. It was in-cognizant and it was impossible to sense. Harry was able to gather his magic just enough to stun someone. Even this small feat made his head spin a little and small drops of sweat started to form on his forehead.

"Now, now Harry. That's quite exaggerating," Garret said and looked pointedly at Harry's right palm.

How could he see this or did he sense it? Harry thought a bit panicked. Am I in a too weak state to perform even a little piece of magic...

"Oh, trying to hide it? You should know Harry; I can sense any kind of magic there is. You cannot hide it from me," Garret answered self-satisfied to Harry's thoughts.

Harry had only time to open his mouth when Garret continued. "It's a really nice piece of magic Harry. It really is," Garret said again when he saw the teens wary expression. "Not many can use their core magic like you can. Hiding the spell from the senses shows a high skill. I wonder what you could do if your magical core was not bound. Nevertheless, it's very unique magic Harry. Very unique indeed."

The green-eyed teen frowned. Why was Garret flattering him? Maybe the man wanted something. But more importantly there was one thing what Garret said that made the teen interested.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "If you can sense the spell then it's not as advanced as you make it sound."

Garret took a few steps towards the raven haired teen. "As I stated before, I can sense every piece of magic. The normal rules don't apply me," the man shrugged it off.

Harry knew he wouldn't get any better answer so he decided to drop the talk of Garret's powers for now.

"That's nice. But what do you want?" Harry folded his arms over his chest and tried to look threatening even a little bit. His head was spinning more than ever. He hoped Garret wouldn't notice his weakened state.

Garret looked amused at the teen's posture. "You see, we both have something the other wants so why don't we help each other?"

"You have nothing I want," Harry hissed through gritted teeth. What was this man playing at?

"Oh really?" Garret answered while grinning somehow cruelly.

"Nope, nothing. So it was pleasure to meet you again." Harry turned around and was about to walk away from the man when the said man suddenly appeared in front of Harry, halting the teens marching.

"Don't be so sure about that," Garret said and took a hold of Harry's shoulder. One moment they were standing in front of the assassin's hideout, and another moment they were standing on a edge of roof where the only thing keeping Harry from falling to the ground was Garret's firm hold on the teens shoulder.

"You are insane!" Harry yelled and he couldn't be feeling slight fear when looked down to the ground. They were so damn high that Harry wasn't even sure if they were in the same town anymore because he had never seen this high building in the town.

"No, little Harry, I only want to help you," Garret hymned. "Well, do we have a deal?"

The irritated teen glanced angrily at Garret. "What? Helping each other? Fuck you!"

Garret narrowed his eyes and snarled. "Wrong answer."

Harry's eyes widened when he realized what Garret was about to do. Second later the older man let go of Harry's shoulder and the next thing the teen knew, was a sudden wind blowing when he was falling through the air. Oh Merlin, I'm going to die, Harry thought in panicked fear.

It was funny though, how he always thought that Voldemort was the one who would end his life. But surprisingly faith had another death planned up for him. At least it's not going to hurt...Harry thought and the same time he couldn't stop the images of himself lying on the ground his brains splattered all over the stone path...He didn't want to see the ground when he was about to hit it so he closed his eyes. But the impact with the stone floor never came for strong pair of arms grabbed him in a firm hold.

For a moment Harry thought that Voldemort had found him and was saving him when he felt that the falling speed had slowed down. When he opened his eyes he noticed in surprise he was floating slowly towards the ground in a firm hold of his rescuer which he hoped was Voldemort.

When his feet touched the stoned pathway, he could finally look at his savior.

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief and he took a step backwards. "Why...?" Harry squeaked.

Garret followed the teen's steps. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder yet again and drew himself so close that he could whisper into the green-eyed wizard's ear. "It's very foolish of you to not even hear what I want from you. The next time I will not save you from death," Garret hissed dangerously at Harry who got shivers going all over his body.

Harry could only stare open mouthed when the mysterious man drew farther away from the teen and put a happy smile on his face. "Well then, I think it's time for a little chat!" Garret grinned happily.

Harry closed his mouth and nodded. He was too weak to fight back anyway so why not just agree?

"Excellent! Where do you want to go? Would you like some tea?"

"…tea sounds good," Harry replied wearily. Tea didn't sound good at all. He had no interest sipping tea with some psycho man.

"Ah, tea it is then." And with that Garret took a hold of Harry's hand and then the two were gone.

* * *

Yup, a short one again :( Nothing really exciting happened in this chapter but the most important thing that happened was that Harry killed someone. It is first step of becoming dark, after all this is Dark!Harry story, he won't be evil but just dark. Well, maybe a little bit of evilness there might be found in him later but that is because of Voldemort's influence :D

**In the next chapter** there will be some answers to some questions and a new world is awaiting our heroes :D Because I'm going to fit talk with Garret, hunt for Glarence and a small first visit to the next world in the next chapter, it will be quite long. I don't know why I told that like it was a bad thing XD

Here are some answers for the reviews:

I don't remember who asked this and in which chapter but someone wanted to know if we will be seeing the man who looks like Garret and tried to snatch Harry (he appeared in the Lizard world). The answer is: yes, you will be seeing him in later chapters. He was not just someone out of the blue but he actually is a very important part of the plot.

TachanGyu would like to peek into Voldemort's thoughts. Well, I've been planning to write only from Harry's pov but if there are enough readers who would want a small Voldie's pov then you can tell me it in a review.

I've been wondering that would you like to receive a respond to your reviews every time you have reviewed and would you rather prefer a respond via pm or via chapter. I think I'm going to make a poll on that one.


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